


Walk That Mile

by purpledaisy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst and Fluff and Smut, M/M, Route 66 - Freeform, strangers to enemies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-15 21:24:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 149,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12329163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpledaisy/pseuds/purpledaisy
Summary: Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is low and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers on everything I’ve tried to do.”“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.-A Route 66 AU where falling in love was never part of the plan.





	1. Twelve Days Before (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, THANK YOU to [allwaswell16](http://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16) for all of the art to accompany this fic - the mood boards and the [incredible travel blog](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/) that is linked throughout the story. Thank you for being my cheerleader and reading all of my scrambled thoughts as I wrote this monster of a story. Your play-by-play emails always made my day. 
> 
> Also thanks to Adele for the song "One and Only" which inspired the title.

**TWELVE DAYS BEFORE**

Chicago, Illinois

Louis Tomlinson is on the rooftop of the LondonHouse Chicago when he gets the email. He’s halfway to tipsy with an attractive guy smiling at him from across the bar and the city lights dancing around in the background. He means to swipe on a text from his sister but his finger slips to the email notification from FrontGate Airlines instead and opens the message.

He reads it twice, blinking hard to make sure he’s reading it correctly. Most of the words mush together but a few stay clear: unsuccessful, bankruptcy, delayed refund.  It reads up and down like he’s screwed.

“The fuck?” is what he actually manages out loud, catching the attention of Niall Horan who always seems to be closest when Louis is having a problem.

“What?” Niall asks, slipping the black straw in his whiskey coke between his lips.

“My airline went bankrupt,” Louis says, flashing the screen in Niall’s direction.

Niall lets the straw fall from his mouth. “I told you not to book on an airline no one has ever heard of.”

Louis groans and clicks the lock button on his phone, forgetting to check the text from Lottie altogether. “The tickets were cheap,” he mutters.

“So what are you going to do?” Niall asks unhelpfully.

“I don’t know,” Louis moans, draining the rest of his drink and putting it on the ledge behind him. “Quit school?”

Niall’s laughter is a bark and Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right, Tommo. You just made it through four years at the University for Spoiled Children and now you’re starting fucking law school. Don’t back out now.”

“Southern California,” Louis corrects needlessly. “University of Southern California.” Niall definitely knows where he goes to school; he just chooses to be insufferable.

“Buy a ticket on a functioning airline,” their friend Sam chimes in from across the semi-circle they’ve formed.

“Yeah, I guess,” Louis says with a shrug while trying not to roll his eyes.

The whole point was to not blow money on a flight back to school in LA and now that’s exactly what he’ll be doing anyway. It’s not like his summer internship is paying in cotton candy but there are preferable ways to spend his money than on a plane ticket.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he tells Niall. “And then I’m going to get really drunk to forget this has happened at all and you can be in charge of reminding me in the morning.” He winks at Niall’s protesting squawk as he twirls his way through the crowd to the bar.

It’s only when he comes back to his friends that he smells trouble. Niall’s eyes go wide as he pulls Louis close into his side, excitement fluttering on his lips.

“Oh god,” Louis says. He can smell the misplaced enthusiasm dripping from Niall – knowing him for nearly ten years has done that much.

“You haven’t even heard my idea yet,” Niall says with a quick eye roll. “Just listen.”

“Are you starting an airline that flies your best friend back to campus for free?” Louis grins and then lets it slide off his lips. “Anything else, I’m not interested.”

“Shut up, and hear me out,” Niall says with a sigh. “I have this friend – ”

Louis interrupts before Niall can go any further, “Do I know him?”

“No. I met him at my internship.”

Louis makes a buzzing sound with his mouth, shaking his head. “I’m going to stop you there, Ni. Love you but anyone you met at a museum internship is not for me.”

Niall flicks Louis in the forehead. “This guy from my museum internship goes to USC too,” he says somewhat forcefully. “He was just telling me about how he’s driving back this year because he wants to have his car on campus. He’s making a whole road trip out of it, taking the old Route 66 and everything. Two weeks, three time zones, eight states, something like that. It sounds really cool actually.”

Louis blinks “Congratulations to your friend.”  He flinches when Niall flicks him again, on the wrist this time.

“What I’m saying is you should go with him,” Niall says like it’s the best idea he’s ever thought of.

“A road trip,” Louis says slowly, “With a stranger you know from a museum internship.”

“Would you stop bashing my internship?” Niall says with another flick to Louis’s wrist. “History is important to me.”

Louis tries not to laugh when he nods and says, “Yes, I know.”

Niall was the president of their high school history club where Louis was the only other member - and that was partly guilt and partly by force. Niall wants to work for the Smithsonian someday and can prattle off historical facts as easy as Louis can recite types of torts and corresponding case studies.

“Anyway, Harry’s not a stranger,” Niall huffs back to the original point. “We’ve spent almost three months together. I think I would have a pretty good read on the guy.” He takes another sip from his nearly empty drink and Louis follows suit, trying not to wince over the heavy ratio of vodka in his press. “Or you can buy an exorbitantly priced ticket to sit inside a metal cylinder for five hours instead. It’s up to you.”

Louis spits out his straw mid swallow. “You think a road trip is free, Niall? That would still cost me a ton of money plus, not to mention, possibly my life if your museum friend is actually a closeted mass murderer.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Niall says and Louis can see he’s trying not to laugh. “It’s your choice and honestly, they probably cost the same. You’re getting ready to start law school. There’s no more time for fucking around. Your real life is literally getting ready to start.”

Louis hesitates at the call out. Once he walked across the stage in May and flew home to Chicago for one last summer, he knew his life would be changing with the start of law school. It had always been a periphery start in the future and now it’s lingering a month away. Reality sweeping in quickly and there really is no slowing it down. Maybe he does need another adventure before the summer is out.

“You’re considering it,” Niall says with a sly smile. “I see the wheels turning.”

Louis flips him off. “You don’t even know if the guy wants someone going with him,” he says. “You can’t just offer up people’s cars without asking.”

Without breaking eye contact, Niall takes his phone from his pocket and holds it up. “I’ll go call him right now, swear it.”

Louis considers again. It’s not like he’s in a hurry to get back to school yet and there’s a chance it could be entertaining, plowing through the middle of America. He smiles at the thought.

“I see that smile,” Niall points like a kid catching Santa Claus in the front hall. “I’m calling Harry.”

Louis has finished his drink and helped his friend Luke chat up a girl with wavy blonde hair by the time Niall comes back to the group. He has a tight smile and his tone of voice doesn’t exactly match his words when he says, “He’s really excited.”

Louis sighs and shakes his head. He does need the ride but he’s not exactly sure what he’s gotten himself into. “What’s he like?” He asks, “Is he fun, at least?”

Niall puts his phone back into his jeans and picks up his drink again. “He has a really good heart.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Louis says, eyes going wide. “That’s what people say about terrible people.”

“He’s become one of my closest friends, Tommo. You better watch your mouth.”

Louis narrows his eyes, “I thought I was one of your closest friends?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “I have a lot of friends, Louis. Harry has a good heart in the best way possible, how’s that? He’s incredibly smart and kind but he’s also quiet. He has a bit of a hard shell, I guess you could say.”

“Oh, Christ,” Louis says dramatically, catching the attention of a couple strangers near them. He flicks his hand to make them look away as if to say, carry on. “I can’t believe you roped be into a road trip with a bratty nerd who has a good heart.”

Niall doesn’t look impressed by Louis’s theatrics. “You better be nice to him or I’ll have your balls.”

Louis fakes offense, “I’m always nice, Nialler.” Niall actually snorts this time. Louis sighs. “What does he look like? Does he look like a bratty nerd?”

“Stop with the bratty nerd shit,” Niall says, getting his phone back out of his too tight jeans. “I’ll show you his Instagram, if that will make you shut up.”

Louis rubs his hands together, leaning in. “No promises.”

Niall pulls up Harry’s profile easily and Louis notes the user ‘harrystyles’ for any of his future stalking needs.

“I actually don’t think he really posts that many photos of himself,” Niall says as the images load into their designated squares. “He’s kind of artsy like that.”

Louis stares at the side of Niall’s head blankly before glancing down at the phone. “Artsy is an understatement,” Louis says plucking the phone from Niall’s hand and scrolling. Harry’s feed is pictures of buildings and landscapes, crisp coffee shops and the toes of his shoes on mosaic floors. There is not a picture of his face to be found.

“He’s an Art History major,” Niall says when Louis hands the phone back.

“Probably doesn’t believe in selfies or memes,” Louis says which is a stark contrast from his own Instagram which has a healthy dose of both.

Niall scrolls a bit further and then stops. “Except this,” he says, holding the phone up.

Louis’s eyes go a bit wide when he focuses on the screen. “That’s him?”

“His hair is shorter now,” Niall notes, pulling the phone back. Louis grabs his wrist to stop him - he’s not done looking.

The photo is black and white and cropped just below a giant butterfly tattoo on the guy’s stomach. There are birds inked on his chest and all sorts of things along his arm but Louis is mostly drawn to the line of his neck and jaw, the fucking leather collar splitting the distance between the two. His hair is long, falling on top his shoulders by the looks of it and his eyes are closed, face cast up.

“He likes photography too,” Niall says when Louis lets go of his wrist, taking his phone back. He says it casually as though Louis has not just looked at the photo of a bratty nerd who also happens to be pretentious but also looks like a BDSM prince of darkness.

“That’s good,” Louis says, clearing his throat. That picture is going to be burned on his eyelids, he already knows it. “He’s still a bratty nerd, for the record.”

Niall smiles at him, too knowingly for Louis’s liking. “Noted,” he says with a smirk.

*


	2. Day 1, 2, 3

[ **DAY ONE** ](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/164720896174/day-one-chicago)

Chicago, Illinois

Louis wakes up late on the day the road trip is supposed to start. He has a mild hangover and sticky skin as he rolls off of Niall’s couch and onto the floor. They’d gone hard the night before, he and Niall, a bit too hard maybe, in preparation for nine months without each other. Technically, they’ll both be home for the holidays and Louis’s birthday in December but the shots went down easier when they said nine months instead.

His head is pounding as he pulls himself off the floor to actually stand, tripping over his own shoes on the way to the toilet. He checks his phone once he’s washed his hands and stares blankly at the time. Niall said Harry would be over around nine to pick him up; considering that is two minutes away from the current moment, Louis thinks he might be in a bit of a situation.

He opts out of showering to collect his things and wrangle his phone charger in a bag all while gnomes with tiny hammers tap on the inside of his skull. He hears a car pull up out front of the apartment complex at exactly nine but he ignores it in favor of shoving his shoes in his bag. There’s no way Harry is actually going to show up on time.

The doorbell going off both proves him wrong and makes him groan as the tiny men with hammers pick up their pace against his skull.

“That’s probably Harry,” Niall says from somewhere down the hallway, his voice getting louder as he comes into the front room. “He’s serious about his schedules.”

“You could have told me that,” Louis says as he zips his bag, a bit breathless from the exertion. “I would have at least attempted to make a good impression.”

Niall glances at him over his shoulder as he goes for the front door, “Whoops, sorry,” he says half-heartedly.

Louis checks his reflection in the television screen as Niall answers the door, his voice far too loud for the hour. The voice that meets Niall’s is low and methodical, something out of an audio book recording. Louis runs his hands through his hair, sniffs his shirt, and goes to meet Harry Styles.

“Here he is,” Niall says as Louis comes up behind him. Niall moves to the side as Harry steps inside the doorway.

Harry is taller than Louis expects, his shoulders broad and waist thin, and his hair definitely shorter than the collar picture from two weeks ago. Louis thought he’d forgotten about that photo but clearly his subconscious was just waiting for the right moment to bring it up.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he says in his best impersonation of a functioning adult. He holds his hand out to Harry and definitely doesn’t stare too long when Harry takes his hand in his own, the muscles in his forearm flexing.

“Harry,” he says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Louis says in an autopilot response. He takes in Harry’s converse and tight black jeans, his white tee shirt and hair pushed back from his face, his ridiculous jawline. Louis’s eyes drop back to his shirt and he reads the simple black font: women are smarter. He smiles, “Cool shirt.”

Harry’s eyes drop down as if he’s forgotten the text on his shirt and then he almost blushes, if Louis had to call it, when he looks back up. “Thanks.”

“I’m almost ready,” Louis says, averting his eyes from Harry’s cheeks. “Let me just grab the last few things.”

Harry’s nod is tight and Louis thinks he may be restraining himself from checking the watch on his wrist.

“Right back,” he promises, turning quickly and heading back the way he came, leaving Niall to chat with Harry.

Harry doesn’t seem too horrible based on the first impression, Louis thinks. He pulls on a new pair of pants and throws the others in a bag. Hopefully they’ll stay somewhere with a laundry machine over the next couple of weeks. Otherwise, they won’t be washed until he’s back on campus and that may not be a pretty sight.

Louis brushes his teeth with his finger and Niall’s toothpaste and then slips one bag on either shoulder as he goes back toward the front door. “Ready now,” he says when Niall and Harry both look up at him.

“Your socks aren’t matching,” Niall notes with a glance at Louis’s feet.

“How I prefer it,” Louis says with a smile, dropping his bags on the floor. Harry looks wearily at the size of them and then mumbles something about making room in the back of his car before walking out the front door.

“Wish me luck,” Louis says lowly as he goes. “And pray I’m not buried in a desert in Texas by the end of this.”

Niall laughs so hard he snorts, shaking his head. “I think you’ll find you and Harry have more in common than you think.”

Louis thinks about what he knows - his major, his Instagram, his quiet answers this morning - and smiles somewhat encouragingly. “Yeah, maybe.” His voice sounds like when his sisters used to ask their mother if she would let them have ice cream after dinner when they didn’t have any in the freezer. Niall must hear it too because he flicks Louis’s ear.

“Ouch,” Louis says, rubbing the spot. “I won’t be missing that.”

“You’ll miss me,” Niall says sweetly and without remorse.

Louis scrunches his nose, “Questionable,” he says even as he pulls Niall in for a hug, squeezing him tightly around the shoulders.

He slips his feet into his Adidas sneakers by the front door and pats his pockets for his phone and wallet before grabbing his bags again. Harry is standing at the front door when he rights himself and they play an odd dodging game before Harry stands back so Louis can pass.

“Do you need help?” Harry asks as Louis starts off down to where Harry’s Jeep is parked on the curb.

“Got it,” Louis calls over his shoulder. He can already tell that he’s pushed Harry away from his comfort zone just by coming; he’s certainly not going to make him load his bags as well.

The back of the Jeep is crammed with bags and there’s barely room for Louis’s two duffel bags though he manages to shove them in eventually. It takes a bit more power than he expects to get the back hatch shut but it finally latches as he catches his breath. The last ten minutes have done nothing for his hangover and he already feels slightly nauseous. It’s not the best way to start an extended road trip.

He pastes on a smile when Niall walks Harry down to the car, Harry’s eyes cast down and Niall smiling tensely. If they end up hating each other, it will be Niall’s fault, Louis decides then and there.

“Ready?” Louis directs his question at Harry.

“Sure, yeah,” he says. He takes his keys out of his pocket and goes for the driver’s side. “Bye, Niall,” he says just before he gets in, the thud of the car door closing echoing on the street.

“Man of few words,” Louis mutters as he hugs Niall again.

“Give him a chance,” Niall says when Louis pulls back, a small smile on his lips.

“Too late to back out now,” Louis says brightly before opening the passenger door and sliding in. It’s only as he shuts the door that the he realizes the window is down and Harry has definitely heard his quick exchange with Niall. He doesn’t need to see his reflection to know his face is steadily going red.

“Don’t forget your seatbelt,” is what Harry chooses to say, starting the car and shifting into drive.

“Thanks,” Louis says quietly, pulling the belt over his lap.

Two-thousand miles has never sounded quite so far.

*

Silence seeps in the car as they navigate down the tight side roads of Chicago, cars pressing in on either side of them as people in suits and business casual dresses dart in the street and around cars to get across. Louis jumps each time they do but Harry seems unbothered, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

The radio isn’t turned on and Harry doesn’t speak - not Louis wants to start a conversation anyway. It’s not as if they know anything about each other or have a vested interest in learning more. Louis taps his fingers against his thighs and adjusts in his seat, tugging on the seat belt for something to do.

The quiet does give his hangover some reprieve though he feels nauseous and each time he burps it tastes a lot like tequila. His head still hurts from the bright morning light but as he closes his eyes for some relief, Harry slams on the breaks in the car. Louis’s eyes fly open as his hands hit the dashboard in front of him, alcohol suddenly threatening to regurgitate at the sudden movement.

“I hate driving in the city,” Harry says like an apology as he eases the gas pedal and the car moves forward.

“Should I be worried about how far Los Angeles is?” Louis asks. He means it to be a joke but it comes out flat. His body is rebelling against him and he’s scared to open his mouth too wide when he talks.

Harry shifts in his seat and shrugs a shoulder but doesn’t answer.

“It’s mostly open spaces where we’re headed though, right?” Louis asks. He already hates the silence and they’ve been together for ten minutes.

“Yeah, mostly,” Harry says, eyes on the road.

Louis bulges his eyes at his brief answer but stays quiet this time. If Harry doesn’t want to talk for the next two-thousand miles, that’s up to him. Louis may start having conversations with himself, if he’s forced to but that’s neither here nor there.

He settles back in his seat and goes back to tapping his fingers on his thighs, playing the rhythm to a song he heard in a bar last night though he can’t remember the name. The bar brings back a rush of memories of taking shots and Louis actually gags a little bit. He turns his head toward the window to hide it. He needs to get something in his stomach besides the swirling remnants of alcohol he’s working with right now. A smarter man would have packed a snack or eaten breakfast before getting in the car - he blames his hangover for the oversight.

“Would you mind if we, uh, got some snacks?” Louis thinks about the words for almost two minutes before he says them out loud. He’s not sure what he’s expecting Harry to do when he asks - maybe pull over and tell Louis to get out of the car, for one.

“Sure,” Harry says instead.

They pass two gas stations and a grocery store before Harry finally pulls off at a Mini-Mart.

“You want anything?” Louis asks as he undoes his seatbelt but Harry is already ahead of him, opening the car door and getting out without a word. Louis is pretty sure he’s going to stop putting effort into being friendly and sociable sometime very soon.

In the store he buys a few bags of chips and candy, four bottles of water, a soda and a breakfast sandwich. His arms are full when he drops everything on the counter, a sheepish smile matching the unimpressed glare of the cashier.

“Road trip,” he says as she rings him up. She doesn’t really seem to care.

Harry is eyeing the wall of snacks when Louis finishes paying so he leaves him to it, going back out to the car and re-taking his spot in the passenger side. He wonders if Harry will ever let him drive the Jeep or if he’ll be banished to a navigator role instead. Perhaps he’ll just be ignored like a nuisance for two weeks straight and then he’ll be questioning his entire existence by the time he gets back to campus. He rolls his eyes and unwraps his breakfast sandwich.

The grease is pressing through the parchment paper wrapping and Louis can’t remember the last time he was as happy about something as simple as grease. He takes too big of a bite and chews like a grossly underfed elephant as he watches Harry crossing the parking lot.

Harry is good looking – Louis already feels like it’s a commonly shared opinion and not just his own - but he’s a bit awkward, the way his toes point in and his shoulders tend to hunch. A car swerves to avoid hitting Harry just then and Louis actually chokes a bit as he watches it happen. He doesn’t need his driver to be road kill while they're still in the city limits.

Harry doesn’t mention it but tosses Louis a wad of napkins when he gets in the car, like he anticipates Louis will need them. Granted, he probably will and he did forget to grab his own - but it’s still slightly off putting to be thought of in that way.

“Thanks for stopping,” Louis says as Harry starts the car. He should be grateful now, he assumes, before they really get going and never stop again. Harry seems like that kind of road trip director.

“Sure,” Harry says without looking, craning his neck as he backs up out of the spot and steers the car back toward the road.

The only saving grace is Harry shoving his finger on the power button of the radio before they turn out of the parking lot, the car filling with the exact song Louis had been trying to remember not ten minutes before. He doesn’t know whether it’s a good sign or an omen.

*

The silence between them starts to become stifling as they turn onto the highway heading south. Louis has finished his sandwich and a bottle of water while Harry snacks on some sort of green chips out of a bag in his lap. Louis has avoided trying to figure out what kind they are in case Harry thinks he’s staring at his dick. Not that he’s above such an act but maybe not with someone he hardly knows.

“So,” Louis says after another quiet moment as a commercial comes on the radio. “Where are we headed?”

The look Harry gives him could easily cut through a hard surface and his haughty, “Los Angeles,” does nothing to help Louis’s initial impression of him.

“Right,” Louis says. He takes a deep breath and let’s it out quietly though he thinks Harry hears it by the aggressive way he clenches his teeth on the next chip he eats. Louis has done nothing but be himself and, so far, that’s not doing him any favors but he’s not sure who else to be in the meantime. “I meant like, do you have a route? Or are we just freeballing our way across the country.”

“Freeballing?” Harry’s lips twitch when he glances over at Louis and it’s around then he realizes he hasn’t seen Harry smile once since they’ve met. He almost gets one for freeball though, so he must be improving.

“Roaming,” Louis says, “Exploring. Whatever.”

Harry looks back at the road, the almost-smile already gone. “I made a list of places I want to go,” he says when Louis starts to be convinced he won’t answer. “I’ve been planning this trip all summer so I do have an itinerary.”

“Do you?” Louis smiles as he looks over. “Where is it, then? Can I review and give feedback?” He’s joking but Harry’s hands tense on the steering wheel and Louis isn’t sure he’s in on the joke.

“It’s in the glove compartment,” Harry says, nudging his head toward the space in front of Louis.

Louis opens the box with the eerie feeling it means more to Harry than it does to him as he pulls out a tattered black notebook and eases the compartment closed again with a dull click.

“The marked page,” Harry says before Louis can open the book to any old page. As if he would - he has sisters, he knows snooping through a journal is highly frowned upon. He did learn the hard way but that’s another story.

Louis isn’t sure what he expects as he opens the journal to the page marked with a purple sticky note but it’s certainly not an actual itinerary. Each day is listed out with places to visit and how many miles there are between each stop. New states are marked with red arrows and the right hand margin is a rough budget per day. Each site has a number of hours next to it and it’s only after he stares at it for a while that Louis realizes those are time estimations of how long Harry is planning to stay at each place. As a person who hates planners, forgets dates at the drop of a dime and lives the way he generally wants - the detailed itinerary just about makes Louis break out in hives.

“Looks like you’ve got it all planned out,” Louis says, eyes dragging down the first page of Harry’s handwritten itinerary and then flipping to the next. Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California. Funks Grove for two hours, Chain of Rocks Bridge for an hour, Meramec Caverns for three, Cadillac Ranch for one and a half hours. “Very planned out.”

Harry tightens his wrists on the steering wheel and rubs his lips together before he answers. “I didn’t want to waste any time.”

Louis’s eyes glaze over the list again and he snaps the journal shut. “Thanks for taking me along, then. I know that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says which isn’t nearly as nice as, “Happy to have you along for the ride,” but isn’t as aggressive as, “Get out of my car,” so Louis takes it for what it is.

“So, where are we going first?” Louis asks with a hint of a smile. He knows how to take a hint when someone doesn’t want to talk to him but he’s not sure what to do with the hint afterwards. He really enjoys poking and pinching until things explode and he’s a bit worried Harry has become his next victim.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Louis says.

“You just read the itinerary,” Harry says, glancing over. He switches lanes to a faster one and accelerates the car slightly.

“I’m testing you, though,” Louis says. “To make sure you know.”

Harry looks at him silently for entirely too long as the driver of the car before focusing back on the road. “Midewin Tallgrass Prairie,” he says finally.

“A prairie,” Louis says with a hint of awe in his voice. “Thrilling.”

Harry shoots him another one of those scary looks again. “I wanted to hike a bit,” he says. “Stretch my legs.” He glances at Louis quickly. “You can wait in the car if you’d like.” Louis can’t be sure if he’s telling a joke or not but his lips almost twitch as he goes back to staring at the road.

“You can’t just leave me in the car,” Louis says, “I’ll die of heat exposure. Or I’ll get so hungry I’ll be forced to eat your green chips.”

Harry pauses with one of the green things partway to his mouth. “What green chips?”

“Those,” Louis points as it disappears into Harry’s mouth. He gestures at his lap, “What are they anyway?”

Harry licks his lip and then pulls another one from the bag. “Snap pea crisps?”

“Snap pea crisps?” The incredulity seeps from Louis’s voice. “You can’t have a perfectly normal chip like the rest of the world? Made out of a potato?”

Harry actually smiles then and he’s got a dimple in his cheek Louis which notices immediately. “I like these ones,” Harry says, chewing thoughtfully. “They have an interesting taste but are still kind of salty. I tell myself they’re healthier.”

Louis smirks, “You can’t say they have an interesting taste and then not let me have one.”

Harry looks at him from the corner of his eye and then lifts the bag without looking over. “You won’t like it.”

“Don’t say that like you already know,” Louis says as he reaches in the bag. He takes one crisp between two fingers and inspects it. It looks like a snap pea from what he can tell but it’s definitely been fried beyond much further recognition. “I might have a very diverse pallet.”

Harry actually snorts as he takes the bag back and sets it in his lap. Louis shakes his head at him but puts the crispy pea in his mouth anyway. He chews and tilts his head back and forth, trying to identify the taste.

“It tastes like weed,” he says, chewing quicker. “It tastes like if you took weed straight out of the bag and chewed on it.”

Harry actually gapes when he looks over this time and Louis starts to worry about their safety before Harry looks forward again. “I can’t say I’ve ever done that.”

“I haven’t either,” Louis says quickly. “I much prefer to inhale rather than chew but you know what I mean.”

Louis gets half a laugh out of Harry for that. “I can assure you I don’t know what I mean.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Have you ever thought something tasted like grass before?”

Harry scrunches his lips and shrugs. “Kale, I guess. With too much dressing, it’s like soggy grass.”

Louis gags slightly. “I’ll take your word on that one. You’ve never eaten soggy grass right? But you think kale tastes like it. It’s like that.”

Harry looks at him and takes a deep breath as if he’s about to confess something.

“Are you telling me you _have_ eaten soggy grass?” Louis asks seriously.

Harry actually laughs then and Louis gets a bit caught off guard - by the dimples in his cheeks, his two big front teeth and pretty lips. “I’m kidding,” he says. “I don’t eat soggy grass.”

Louis nods blankly and then remembers the thread of their conversation, “Right, exactly. This is like soggy grass. Except weed.”

Harry takes another pea from the bag and bites into it, chewing slowly. Louis watches his side profile, the way his eyebrows raise and his nose wiggles.

“Yeah, yeah there it is,” Louis says, pointing. “You see what I’m saying now.”

“I guess so,” Harry says, putting the other half in his mouth. “Bizarre way of thinking about it, though.”

Louis sighs and shifts in his seat. “I told you I have a diverse pallet.”

Harry smirks and Louis promises he’s not keeping track of how many smiles he’s gotten out of him so far.

“This means I don’t have to share, right? You don’t like my weed peas?”

Louis is the one to laugh this time. “I didn’t say anything about not liking them,” he says. He holds out his hand to Harry. “Weed me, please.” Harry smirks, barely, as he hands over four more pea crisps to Louis and pops another in his mouth.

*

It turns out that after Chicago, Illinois is just open plains of corn and a lot of it. Louis knew in the abstract way you know things after learning them in school. He’s never seen it himself, though. His family usually spent most of their vacations close to the shore of Lake Michigan or traveling over Illinois in a plane headed for the ocean. He’s yet to actually drive through it and stare at the endless cornfields, the absolute nothingness surrounding the highway.

He’s getting close to asking Harry if they’re lost in the never-ending corn maze but then there’s an exit sign announcing the Midewin National Tallgrass Prairie in three miles and he keeps his mouth shut. It’s probably best that Harry doesn’t totally hate him before they cross the state lines.

“I think this is it,” Harry says as they pull into the parking lot. He turns down the radio the way Louis’s mom does when she arrives anywhere. As if it actually matters.

“What gave it away?” Louis asks gesturing at the sign in front of them and smiling. Harry doesn’t match with a smile of his own and Louis swallows his own smile pretty quickly. He glances down at his sweatpants and frowns. “Do you have proper hiking clothes? I definitely didn’t pack anything beyond what I usually wear at school and that is definitely not hiking appropriate.”

Harry shakes his head and adjusts his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose. “I don’t actually want to hike, Louis. I just thought it would be a good way to stretch our legs since the drive is kind of long.”

Louis isn’t sure what it says about his own health that he feels just fine sitting for hours straight - comfortable even. “Probably a good idea,” he says out loud.

Harry gets out of the car to check the map at the first trailhead while Louis downs another bottle of water. The liquid and greasy food mixture has helped some but he still has a lingering headache. He grabs another water bottle from the floor of the car and finally follows Harry. It actually does feel good to stand up after being in the car for two hours but he’s not planning to say that out loud.

“Find a good path?” He asks Harry as he comes up behind him.

“We’ll just go in for half of a mile and then loop back through here,” Harry says, dragging his finger around a highlighted part of the map.

“Looks good to me,” Louis says because it’s been made pretty clear he doesn’t get a say in much of this cross-country trip.

“Let me just grab my camera from the car,” Harry says jogging toward the Jeep.

Louis looks around the parking lot - the families getting out of their cars with picnics and serious hikers with mosquito nets jetting off the top of their fancy hats. Harry is back in less than a minute with a camera attached to a pink strap around his neck and resting against his side. It’s definitely fancier than any camera Louis ever plans to own.

“Ready,” Harry says when he reaches Louis, though he doesn’t pause for long, already heading out to the trailhead. Louis squeezes the water bottle in his fist once and then follows after him with only a slight haughty sigh.

*

The hike - granted it’s only just over a mile round-trip - is not fun. The views are fine - grass rather than corn with wildflowers springing up every so often - and the actual hike is easy - flat grass with a gentle breeze but it’s utterly boring in every other way.

Harry doesn’t talk to Louis once and stays three steps ahead of him at all times except when he[ stops to take a photo](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/164736468539/day-one-midewin-national-tallgrass-prairie) which is a startlingly common occurrence. Louis ventures to guess he takes photos of at least twenty different types of wildflowers and probably thirty wide frame shots of the open prairie. At first, Louis pauses when Harry is shooting but then Harry will start walking again without a word, leaving Louis behind so he stops pausing to wait and just trudges through their chosen path. He takes one picture on his phone of the prairie and Harry happens to block his shot while taking a picture with his own camera which seems kind of fitting for the entire afternoon.

It only takes an hour for Louis to start to wonder if they’ve turned down the wrong path to take them back to the car when he sees the parking lot and sighs in relief. He’s not sure Harry would stop if they accidentally took the wrong path - he’s exactly the kind of person who would enjoy an accidental nine mile hike.

Harry isn’t behind Louis when he emerges into the parking lot and he vaguely wonders if he should worry. He wasn’t walking that quickly but Harry tends to move like a sloth when he finds something to shoot, or so Louis has learned in their limited time together. Harry is also the one with the car keys so Louis finds the nearest bench and sits down to wait, finishing the bottle of water he’s been carrying and then ducking into the park ranger restroom. He comes out the same time Harry shows up at the end of the trail, glancing around like he thinks Louis has abandoned him. When Harry’s eyes settle on Louis he’s not sure if it’s relief or, _Oh, you’re still alive then_.

“Made it out okay?” Louis asks when he’s close enough, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the hand sanitizer from the bathroom. It seems stickier than he’s used to and he really doesn’t want to know why.

Harry nods, scratching at his neck. “Yeah, got some good photos too.”

“Cool,” Louis says, considering he has absolutely no interest in photography. “Are you keeping a blog or something?”

Harry shrugs a shoulder, still scratching at the same side of his neck. “I have a Tumblr account that I put them all on. Just a way to keep track of everything but I don’t think anyone looks at it.”

Louis can’t figure out if Harry is being self-deprecating or he’s actually running a blog nobody cares about. “Awesome,” he says. He’s about to suggest they get back in the car when Harry drops his hand from his neck and Louis gets a good look at where he’s been scratching. “What happened?” He asks, eyes going wide.

Harry puts his hand on his neck self-consciously. “I was itching it, probably made it red.”

“Uh,” Louis brings his eyes from Harry’s neck to his face and then back. “I don’t think you did that on your own.”

“What?” Harry slaps at his neck and Louis comes in even closer.

There’s an intense red spot in the middle and smaller raised bumps all around it - being around six little siblings for most of his life makes Louis adept at recognizing a bee sting. “I think you got stung,” he says.

Harry tries to scratch at it again and Louis grabs his wrist to stop him. Realizing what he’s done, he releases his grip. Harry drops his hand as soon as he does.

“And you’re getting a couple of hives, it looks like. Are you allergic to bees?”

Harry looks at him with wide eyes and Louis never realized how green they are - hasn’t actually been this close to Harry’s face since they met. There’s an abnormal amount of space missing between them for two almost strangers.

“I’ve never been stung,” he says. “My mom always worried about this, though. What would happen if I did get stung.”

Louis scrunches his nose, “I think we’re about to find out. Did you pack a first-aid kit?”

“Somewhere in the back of the car,” Harry mutters, his hand going back to his neck.

“Stop touching it,” Louis tells him. “And give me the car keys.”

He parks Harry on the curb near the Jeep with another warning not to touch his neck as he unlocks the car and pops the back hatch. If he thought it was full this morning, it’s no match for the Jack-In-The-Box reaction of opening it again, their bags tumbling out onto the asphalt parking lot.

“Well, fuck,” Louis says to himself as he starts to poke around for a first-aid kit of some sort.

“It feels hot,” Harry mutters from beside him and Louis rolls his eyes without lifting his eyes from his search.

“I’ve told you like eight times not to touch it,” he says. “Clearly you’re not listening.” He doesn’t look back but he swears he can feel Harry glaring at him.

The first-aid kit ends up being squished between two bags in the far corner of the trunk and is actually a plastic bag shoved full of band aids, pill bottles and gauze.

“Got it,” Louis says proudly, turning back. Harry looks a mess with his camera still across his chest, his hair pushed back and pointing three different directions, two more hives slowly appearing on his neck.

“Think there’s a Benadryl in there,” Harry says tightly, his fingers twitching like he’s trying not to touch.

Louis dumps the bag out next to Harry on the curb and sifts through the contents for the right bottle. He pushes Harry’s head to the side to see if the stinger is still in the wound and though he isn’t a doctor, he doesn’t think that it is.

“Let me get you some water,” he says, standing back up and grabbing his last bottle from the floor of the car. He counts out two pills and puts them in Harry’s hand and then he unwraps one of the sanitizer wipes and brushes it over Harry’s skin for a lack of actual hive cream.

“It’s cold,” Harry says when he flinches away.

“Don’t be a baby,” Louis says, pressing down more gently with the wipes because he’s not a terrible person.

“The Benadryl is going to make me drowsy,” Harry says as he rubs the two pills between his fingers. “I won’t be able to drive.”

“Luckily I have a driver’s license, then,” Louis says. “Because we are not sitting in the parking lot of this prairie until you feel okay. And I’m not going to listen to you suffocate to death because your neck won’t stop swelling.”

Harry kind of glares but then takes the pills anyway. “The next place we’re going is only a couple miles up the road,” Harry says. “I’ll just stay awake until we get there and then sleep after for the next leg.”

Louis doesn’t tell Harry the Benadryl is going to knock him out as soon as he’s in the passenger seat, he just nods. “Sure, yeah.”

Harry gets in the car and leaves Louis to re-pack the trunk because of course he does. Louis is borderline sweating by the time he gets the back door closed again and gets in the driver’s seat. Harry is already barely moving in the passenger seat, his eyes blinking heavily.

“Where to?” Louis asks as he starts the car. He knows he could pull the itinerary out of the glove compartment again but he has a feeling Harry has the next bit memorized.

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry says his voice thick with sleep. “Go north on 53 for like ten miles.”

Louis was about to enter the name, stupid as it is, into his maps app for directions but it seems Harry has that covered as well. “Alright,” he says, putting his phone in the cup holder. “Next stop the Dotty Drive In.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry says but it’s halfhearted. Louis isn’t even to the edge of the parking lot before Harry is fully asleep, eyes closed and breathing even, his camera still strapped to his chest.

*

Harry is right on the money on the directions and they get to the drive-in less than twenty minutes after the prairie. Louis steers into the nearly empty parking lot and puts the car in park but doesn’t cut the ignition.

The Polka-A-Dot Drive In looks like any other drive in he’s seen in his life with the exception of the Route 66 sign hanging from the billboard out front and the life size statues of Betty Boop and Elvis standing near the door. Even from the parking lot, Louis can tell the paint is chipping on the figures and the Polk-A-Dot Drive In is a faded spectacle of whatever it used to be.

“Harry,” Louis says, “I don’t think we should go here.”

Harry doesn’t so much as snuffle in his sleep as Louis gets the itinerary out of the glove compartment, turning to the correct page. He types the next destination - International Walldog Museum - into his maps and sets it to start, the automated voice telling him to get back on the freeway.

“Harry,” Louis says again, “You have three seconds to wake up and tell me this is where you’ve always wanted to eat lunch or we’re leaving.”

The car stays quiet except for Dua Lipa on the radio. Louis nods and puts the car in drive, “You’re right,” he says. “Let’s skip it.”

*

Harry is still asleep when Louis pulls off in front of the museum a few towns over in Pontiac - a brick building on a quaint strip of other small buildings. The front is a mural of Route 66 through Illinois that, though faded, actually looks pretty cool.

“Here we are,” Louis announces. “The most boring museum in the world.”

He doesn’t mean for Harry to hear that but of course it’s the moment he chooses to wake up, disgruntled and glaring at Louis before he’s even fully conscious.

Louis turns the car off and pulls out the key, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Harry blinks and looks out the front window and then to the side. “I thought we were going to the diner?”

Louis sucks in a breath and says quickly on the exhale, “We did but you were asleep so I kept driving.”

Harry stares at him blankly. “You kept driving?”

“Granted, I did ask you if you’d like to go inside for lunch and you didn’t respond.”

“Because I was medicated and asleep,” Harry says, clearly in disbelief. “You couldn’t wait twenty minutes until it wore off?”

“Hate to break it to you but we’ve been driving for an hour and a half and this is the first time you have so much as moved.”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to just decide what we are and aren’t going to do,” Harry says. He unhooks his seatbelt and flings it against the car door with a loud metallic thud. “This is my road trip and you can’t just take it over because you don’t like my ideas.”

“Did you want me to drag your unconscious body into the diner just so you could say you’d been there?” Louis says back, his voice rising. “You have such a detailed fucking timeline of where we should be, I’m guessing you’d yell at me if I did let you sleep at the diner and didn’t drive to the museum instead. Your anal retentiveness is showing, Harry.”

Harry stares at him, the line of his jaw standing out scarily. “I wanted to get the most out of this trip so I planned it carefully.” His voice is careful and steady and somehow that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So far, you’ve put your sticky fingers in everything I’ve tried to do.”

“Sticky fingers?” Louis repeats, offended. “Are you saying it’s my fault you got stung by a bee? Had you been alone you would have gotten halfway to the Dotty Diner and ran the car off the road because of an allergic reaction, so don’t go blaming me.”

“Polk-A-Dot Drive In,” Harry spits before getting out of the car. He slams the door shut with a deafening reverb and Louis rolls his eyes.

Louis watches as Harry goes into the front door of the museum and disappears, frustration curling in his stomach. He considers starting the car and driving away already imagining Harry’s potential reaction. He stops with a sigh, dropping his head back against the seat. As far as beginnings go, he and Harry haven’t had a good one.  

Technically, there’s no rule that says Louis actually has to go to the same boring-as-hell sites as Harry chooses. He turns around in his seat to find somewhere else to spend his time and spots a diner across the street. Perfect.

He climbs out of the car and heads right for Pat’s Diner with the ring of car keys hanging from his finger. He’s sure Harry will be livid when he comes out to find Louis gone and the keys missing but maybe Louis wants to push a bit more - see what it takes for Harry to really explode.

Pat’s Diner is simple and looks just like every other diner they’ve passed so far - with the exception of Harry’s prized Dot Diner, of course. The booths are covered in shiny red vinyl and the tables are clean minus the leftover coffee rings of days past. The waitress calls for Louis to sit anywhere as he walks in so he chooses a table near the window.

He orders a burger and fries from the sticky menu and then sends a message to the group chat he has with his sisters that he’s still alive before busying himself with staring out the window. The people coming and going from the sign museum look like his grandparent’s age or young families setting out on an educational trip with screaming children. Louis doesn’t envy them – though he does know a screaming twenty-one year old currently in the museum as well.

Harry comes out after Louis has been served his late lunch, half of his fries gone already. He doesn’t seem bothered that Louis is missing as he sets about taking photos of the mural out front of the museum and then going in closer to inspect it. Louis rolls his eyes just watching him rub his hand over the wall like he’s some sort of expert on the entire thing.

In hindsight, Louis thinks he was pretty spot on when he made his blind assumptions about Harry - he seems to be just as pretentious and bratty as he’d assumed. Louis takes an aggressive bite of his hamburger remembering Harry all but blaming him for the fact he got stung by a bee. He chews so hard his jaw starts to get sore before he realizes what he’s doing.

He glances out the window again to see Harry walking around the car, peering in the windows like Louis may be hiding in the backseat. Little does he know Louis is staring at him like a creep from thirty feet away. Harry doesn’t seem all that upset about it when he finds the car is empty; he just sits down on the curb by the back tire and looks through the pictures on his camera. Louis keeps staring at the top of Harry’s head wondering how long it’ll take before he actually gets annoyed that Louis has gone missing.

The answer, it seems, is longer than Louis thought possible. He finishes eating and Harry is still sitting on the curb, letting his head fall back against the rays of sun. It’s only the early evening but the sun is starting to shift in the sky, always a bit restless in the beginning of September.

Louis knows he can’t stay holed up in the diner forever so he pays his tab eventually and wanders back out to the car, sucking on one of the complimentary mints from the hostess stand.

Harry must hear him coming because he sits up straight, eyes falling right to Louis. “I was wondering where you got off to.”

Louis shrugs which is essentially a non-answer but Harry takes it. “How was the museum?”

“Cool, actually,” Harry says, some genuine enthusiasm in his voice. “A lot of the signs are displayed with the original draft from the artist and the other progressions of how they got to where the finished product is.”

Louis smirks down at him, “You’re an art fanatic then?”

Harry shrugs and licks his bottom lip. “I love the process behind it, the story. The finished product is always cool but how it got inspired and where the influence came from - that’s kind of what I’m into.” He may be a bratty pretentious art nerd but he does seem to know his stuff.

“I just stopped over at the diner for a bite to eat,” Louis says. “Did you want anything?”

Harry shakes his head, “I think I’m still warring with the effects of the Benadryl. Feels like I’m in a dream.”

Louis wants to ask if he remembers them yelling at each other in the car not one hour before but decides to hold off.

“I actually was waiting for you to ask something,” Harry says.

Louis lifts his chin, wondering if this is when Harry tells him to find his own way back to campus. “Yeah?”

“There are blue footprints all over town that lead to different murals painted by artists in honor of the museum,” Harry says. “I thought it would be fun to walk through them before the sun goes down.”

Louis casts a glance up at the sky. It hasn’t started to turn peachy yet so they may still have a chunk of time. He doesn’t let the guilt of the time he wasted procrastinating at Pat’s Diner lick at his ribs for too long.

“Would you like to go with me?” Harry asks when the silence draws on.

Louis manages to snap out of his thoughts with a nod. “Yeah, sure. Do we have anywhere else to be tonight?”

Harry shakes his head, “I planned to get a hotel here in Pontiac for the night. Head out again tomorrow morning.”

Louis nods, not sure what more he can add anyway. If Harry wants to pretend the exchanging of barbs in the car didn’t happen earlier, Louis can wish it away too. He’s not a fan of murals but he’ll fake it in the interest of a peaceful evening. He really would like not to have another door slammed in his face.

*

The walk through Pontiac is far more enjoyable than Louis expects, the early evening breeze keeping them cool as they trace the blue footsteps around town. Pontiac isn’t big by any means but they pass by plenty of restaurants and gift shops with boutique hotels scattered throughout. Harry [keeps his camera attached](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/164738760314/day-one-international-walldog-mural-sign-art) to his face the entire time they walk, pointing out intricacies in the mural art as they go - it’s all very fitting with Louis’s art snob persona he’s been crafting for him.

By far the coolest mural is one of a retro soda fountain that’s been made to look real against the brick wall. It’s as life-like as Louis has ever seen and he’s almost tempted to reach out for the knob to try and open the front door.

“Have you seen the ones in New York that look like holes in the sidewalk?” Harry asks as they admire the painting.

“No.” Louis can’t say he’s ever given that much attention to art. “Have you?”

“Not in person,” Harry says without missing a beat. “But I’ve always wanted to. They have one that’s supposed to be a crater with aliens crawling out of it. There’s a video somewhere of people actually skirting around the edge because they think it’s real.”

Louis laughs imagining the scene - it sounds like an elaborate practical joke which he can always get behind. “I can’t believe you haven’t been to New York,” he says. “That seems like an art nerd’s dream.” By the time he realizes what he’s said, it’s too late. Surprisingly, Harry half laughs.

“An art nerd?”

Louis thanks whoever is in charge of the sun and moon he didn’t say bratty as the precursor to art nerd. “I mean if the shoe fits,” he says. He takes a step back from the wall to face Harry. “Niall just told me you were an Art History major and you seem pretty into it.”

“Art nerd,” Harry repeats, laughing slightly. “Can’t say I’ve gotten that before. I guess it is fitting though.”

“I didn’t mean to be offensive,” Louis says as they go back to tracing the blue footsteps to the next mural.

“It’s just what you call me in your head and it slipped out?”

Louis is glad Harry isn’t a mind reader although he seems pretty adept anyway. “Something like that,” he says quietly.

“What do you study?” Harry asks with a glance in Louis’s direction and a smirk. “What name can I secretly call you in my head?”

Louis would honestly be surprised if Harry doesn’t have a secretly rude name for him already. “I’m going into my first year of law school,” Louis says. “I did undergrad poli-sci at USC too.”

“So that’s why you’re bossy,” Harry muses, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Maybe,” Louis says, his lips twitching slightly. “Or it’s the herd of little siblings I grew up with. Someone has to be in control.”

They pause at the next mural, a retro advertisement for the P.T.Barnum circus. Harry holds his camera up as he takes pictures, somehow still managing to talk to Louis.

“Law is impressive,” Harry says. “I used to think I would be a lawyer until I found art and I couldn’t stop myself. Law would have been more realistic in the economy or, at least that’s what my dad would say.”

“Does he not support you?” Louis asks, not intending to pry. He’s been lucky in the way the chips fell when it comes to his family. Except for his biological dad who fucked off before he was even fully out of the womb, he’s been surrounded by a supportive base as long as he can remember. Even if he said he was going to study unicorns, his mom would have given him a supportive smile and then bought him a book about unicorns to get started.

“My dad?” Harry takes his camera down from his face. “Between him and my step dad, I probably get too much support. And then just add my mom and my sister and we’re lucky my ego hasn’t run off on its own yet.”

Louis raises his eyebrows at him but it hardly conceals his smirk.

“My dad is a lawyer, though,” Harry offers. “He would have loved to have me walk in his footsteps.” He shrugs and turns off his camera. “Would you mind stopping while I grab a sandwich? And maybe look for hotels to stay in for the night?”

Louis goes for shocked as he gasps, “You mean you don’t have a hotel already pre-booked and rolling out the red carpet for your imminent arrival?”

Harry doesn’t even fluster at the comment. “Do you really want to fight about this again?”

“Was that what happened earlier? It seemed to me like you slammed the door in my face after blaming me for a bee sting.”

This time Harry does react visibly, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink. “That wasn’t my most shining moment,” he says. “I can admit that.”

Louis stares at him silently, wondering if he can get him to say more like a nervous witness on the stand. It doesn’t happen. “I wasn’t at my best either, to be fair,” Louis says. If Harry isn’t going to apologize, he definitely won’t be the first one to either. “To circle back to your question, though, I don’t mind if we stop for a sandwich.” He gestures between them, “Lead the way.”

Somehow, they end up back at Pat’s Diner with a quick apology from Harry for the fact Louis has already eaten there.  “Trust me, it's fine,” Louis says as they step inside. He still feels a bit guilty for leaving Harry sitting on the sidewalk for an hour while he ate a hamburger earlier. Only a bit, though.

The hostess doesn't recognize Louis and if the waitress does, she doesn’t let on when she brings over two glasses of iced water. Louis isn’t sure if he should be offended that he has such a forgettable face, though he imagines in a tourist town everyone is somewhat forgettable.

“How’s your neck?” Louis asks as Harry looks through the menu. It still looks red but the hives have gone down considerably.

“Better,” Harry says, rubbing his hand over the spot impulsively. “Luckily my throat didn’t swell shut or anything like that.”

Louis can’t help the little laugh that bubbles from his mouth. “Yeah, luckily.” He flips his menu over to look at the drink selection. He’s feeling like he might need a milkshake and he’s debating whether he cares if Harry judges him for it.

“Do you have allergies that do cause your throat to swell up?” Louis asks after a moment. “That might be important for me to know as we’re stuck with each other for the next couple of weeks.”

Harry shakes his head without looking up from his menu. He’s drawn his bottom lip between his teeth as he peruses and Louis is trying his best not to notice.

“I do have an inhaler,” he says when he looks up. “But I haven’t used it in years. My mom would flip if I didn’t carry it with me.”

Louis nods, “Good to know. Where do you keep it?” He lifts his water glass and takes a sip. “You know, in case of emergency.”

Harry scratches his chin and closes his menu, evidently having decided on what to order. “Side pocket of my duffel bag when I travel,” he says. “In my sock drawer when I’m at school.”

“Your sock drawer?” Louis raises his eyebrows. “Not somewhere normal like the medicine cabinet?”

Louis thinks Harry blushes but he rolls his eyes and covers it well. “When I was younger, my mom always kept important stuff in her sock drawer. Like, my sister’s and my baby teeth, the keys to our safe, her dad’s dog tags from when he was in the military. It just stuck, I guess.”

“Harry,” Louis says seriously, “Do you realize you’ve just given me, an almost stranger, the exact location of the keys to your family’s safe?”

Harry smiles, “It’s funny you think you’d find something valuable in my family’s safe. Just because it’s locked doesn’t mean it’s valuable.”

“Why lock it, then?” Louis asks, tilting his head to the side.

Harry shrugs, “Importance doesn’t always intersect with value.”

“What a fake deep thing to say,” Louis says out loud before he can stop himself. Harry laughs though, so he doesn’t have to keep adding to the list of things he’s said that should make him feel guilty.

“It is a bit,” Harry says. He takes a sip from his water and draws his fingers through the condensation on the side.

Louis glances down at the table and draws a line over a worn in mark. “At least you’re self-aware.” He grins when Harry laughs again.

“What about you?” Harry asks, the ghost of a smile still dancing on his lips. “Do you have any allergies I should know about?”

Louis shakes his head, “Nah, I’m easy. I won’t be the one to cause problems between here and Los Angeles.”

Harry narrows his eyes, the smile going away completely but before he can say anything the waitress is at the edge of their table with a notepad and an expression that reads like she’s not that excited to be there. Harry orders a cheeseburger with fries and Louis takes the leap to order an Oreo cookie milkshake. Harry doesn’t even bat an eye at his choice.

“Why didn’t I ever seen you around campus?” Louis asks once the waitress takes their menus and walks slowly, a glacial pace, really, away from the table. Harry is going to be a junior which means they’ve spent two years circling each other without actually meeting.

“Big school,” Harry says, shrugging one shoulder. “Different majors.” He taps his fingers against the side of his glass and almost smiles. “To be fair, we had a biology class together when I was in my first year.”

Louis blinks quickly and shakes his head, “What?”

Harry keeps tapping his fingers on his glass. “Yeah, it was a Marine Biology class for Gen Ed. requirements and you were in it. Thompson was the professor.”

Louis scrunches his nose, “It’s cute you think I would remember the professor’s name. I do remember the class, though. Huge lecture, yeah? A lot of talk about whale sperm?”

“Yep.” Harry pops the end of the word. “So technically we have seen each other on campus.”

The entire lecture is a blur when Louis even tries to think of it - most of his undergrad has gotten blurry with the passing terms. It’s hard to remember every minor detail. “I guess,” Louis says. “I never technically saw you though, for the record.”

“You were hard to miss,” Harry says. “Always talking in the back of class or coming in late.”

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry, “You noticed quite a bit about me, did you?”

Harry’s lips twitch like he’s going to smile but he doesn’t. “I was a freshman and I thought you were hot.” He tilts his head to the side, “Then I thought you were annoying instead.”

Louis fish mouths as he tries to figure out whether to be flattered or not. “Being hot and being annoying are not mutually exclusive, Harry,” Louis says. “The beauty of the duality of man is we can be both.”

“Clearly,” Harry says with a flick of his hand toward Louis.

Louis smiles slowly, “Is this your way of you saying you still think I’m hot?”

Harry rolls his eyes and looks away though Louis is pretty sure it’s because he’s been caught. Aesthetically speaking, Harry is some kind of pretty and though Louis doesn’t want to have to say it out loud, it doesn’t mean the thought hasn’t danced through his mind since he first laid eyes on him. Pretentious, bratty, and pretty are not mutually exclusive terms either.

“And annoying,” Harry says, pulling Louis’s attention again. “Don’t forget that part.”

Louis can’t even respond before their food is being delivered to the table, Louis’s milkshake dripping down the edges of the glass. It’s probably best that way - he’s not sure he has a good enough response and Harry’s smug smile is something Louis has never seen.

*

The Quality Inn of Pontiac boasts of being a ‘straightforward hotel’ which is exactly what they get when they choose it off of a Google location search after dinner. The prices are cheap so neither of them complains as Harry parks near the front entrance and Louis goes inside to ask for a room.

It’s not exactly late as they each take one of their bags from the back of the Jeep to the second floor of the hotel but Louis feels exhausted. The hangover is long gone but the thought of a bed and a television have an extra jolt in his step as they navigate the hallways.

The room is simple - straightforward as suggested - two beds about three feet apart from each other with mustard yellow bedding, two lamps and green walls. It’s gaudy but it splits to be just under thirty dollars for each of them so Louis doesn’t complain.

“I’m going to shower,” Harry announces before they’ve even set their bags down.

“Go ahead,” Louis allows though Harry definitely wasn’t asking for permission. He claims the bed nearest the window and slips off his tennis shoes as he roots through his bag for his phone charger. He winds the cord back behind the nightstand and waits for the screen to light up before he leaves it next to the lamp.

He lies back on the bed with his ankles crossed and flips through the television channels, listening to the lulling sound of water from Harry’s shower. He’s not sure that it’s weird to be sharing a room with someone he just met but he thinks it’s a good sign that he doesn’t feel nervous about it - like Harry might murder him while he sleeps or anything.

He’s just settled on an episode of Antique Roadshow he hasn’t seen yet when the lock clicks on the bathroom door and Harry comes out into the room. He only has a white towel around his waist and Louis is well aware he stares for a moment too long before redirecting his gaze back toward the television.

It’s just that Harry’s black and white Instagram picture didn’t really do justice to his body in real life. Most notably, the butterfly on his stomach and the ferns adorning his hips are gorgeous tattoos. Louis stares at the drops of water running over his honeyed skin like one of those commercials for body wash.

If Harry notices Louis’s watchful eye he doesn’t let on as he walks to where he’s left his bag on the desk in the corner of the room. He unzips it slowly and starts going through the contents while Louis keeps catching glimpses of his towel sliding lower on his hips, the muscles of his broad back sliding against each other whenever he moves.

“I think I’ll shower too,” Louis manages when he realizes he’s looking away slower and slower each time and his mouth has gone slightly dry. Harry doesn’t respond to Louis’s announcement and Louis doesn’t really wait for him to do so, just yanks his bag from the bed and steps quickly into the bathroom, his heartbeat going too fast for a platonic room sharing agreement between two strangers.

The water gets his mind off of Harry and his body for the time being, the warmth seeping into his bones and making him close his eyes as his muscles relax. He notices the hotel-issued body wash is unopened and Harry has a small bottle of Warm Vanilla Sugar body scrub sitting in the corner of the shower. Of course he does. Louis opts for the hotel gel though it smells more like an Evergreen tree than he is expecting and he has to use half the bottle to feel like it’s actually covering his skin.

The bathroom is cold when he gets out of the shower and he tries to dry himself with the towel quickly, hopping around from foot to foot as he looks for a pair of sweats in his bag and something warmer than a t-shirt. The towel doesn’t do a particularly absorbent job of drying his body and his clothes stick to him as he wiggles into them. He brushes his teeth while putting on a pair of socks, more than ready to dive head first into his bed considering the air conditioning must be on the fritz in their cheap accommodations for the evening.

It’s even worse when he wedges the bathroom door open - he’s hit with a blast of arctic air and the low thunder of the air conditioning unit in the window.

“Holy fuck,” he says, as he turns out the light in the bathroom. “Should we tell the front desk about the fact it feels like Antarctica in here?”

Harry is sitting cross legged on his bed in a pair of black leggings and a grey sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. “I don’t mind it,” he says. “I usually sleep warm.”

Louis pauses mid-step. “Wait, did you turn that on or did it turn on by itself?”

“I turned it on,” Harry says. He lifts his chin like Louis is going to challenge him about the fucking AC unit. Louis isn’t - though the thought crosses his mind as he rolls his eyes and finishes making his way to the bed. “Is that a problem?” Harry asks.

“Not a problem,” Louis says. He sets his bag on the dresser nearest his bed and just about trips as he gets under the covers, pulling them up to his shoulders quickly. “Your road trip and all.” He keeps his gaze on the television but he swears he feels Harry glaring at him.

“I changed the channel,” Harry says after a quiet moment. “I’d already seen that episode.”

“What’d you change it to?” Louis asks, adjusting his legs under the sheets.

“Animal Planet,” Harry says easily. “They’re having a Planet Earth marathon.”

Louis stacks two pillows behind his back and laughs. “Great, that’ll put me right to sleep.” This time he catches when Harry rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say anything as his gaze drops to the laptop next to Harry on the bed, a slim black cord connecting it to his camera. “What are you working on?” He asks because he’s never claimed to not be nosy.

Harry doesn’t look up when he answers. “Editing photos from today.”

“We should have got one of your neck earlier, that would be a nice keepsake.”

Harry snorts, “Documentation was the last thing on my mind, honestly.”

“Me too,” Louis says. “I was more worried about you dying and then I’d have to hide your body off the side of the highway.”

Harry looks over this time, a blank look on his face before he goes back to his computer. “You’re so thoughtful,” he says.

“What are you doing with the photos?” Louis asks. “Boring people on social media?”

“Wow, the compliments just roll off your tongue, don’t they?” Harry shakes his head at his screen, his hand working quickly over the track pad.

Louis smirks, “I’m kidding. I saw your Instagram already, I know you have an aesthetic to keep up. Thirty road trip pictures in a row probably won’t make the cut.”

“How’d you see my Instagram?” Harry asks, his hand pausing from photo editing as he looks over.

“Niall,” Louis says. “As he was trying to convince me to go with you on this road trip.”

“He didn’t offer to show me your Instagram as compensation,” Harry says. “That could have been the make or break.”

“Break,” Louis says, “Definitely break. My Instagram isn’t nearly as pretty as yours.” He saves himself from saying pretentious but just barely.  

“Good thing I didn’t see it, then,” Harry says. When he goes back to his computer, he’s smiling.

“Seriously, though, what are you doing with them?” Louis asks.

Harry clicks around and then turns the screen toward Louis’s bed. “The travel blog I told you about,” he says. “No one really follows it but it’ll be good to keep track of where we go.” Harry scrolls a bit and Louis sees pictures of the murals from this evening and the prairie from earlier in the day.

Louis hums and looks back toward the television. They’re both quiet for a bit after that and Louis slowly feels his eyes getting heavier. Planet Earth is depicting an elephant migration and he’s particularly charmed by the baby elephants bathing in one of the lakes. His heart just about races through his chest when a pack of lions nearly gets one of the babies and there’s a narrow escape.

“Fuck that was intense,” Harry says quietly from his perch on his bed.

Louis jumps slightly, pulling his attention from the television. He’d forgotten Harry was even next to him. “I know,” he says as the show goes to a commercial.

He yawns into his hand and turns on his side as he slips into a laying position. The room is still icy cold around him but something about it is kind of refreshing as he burrows in the blankets. Louis takes back his refreshing comment when he has to reach his hand out of the covers to turn off the side lamp and shivers. Harry is definitely a little bit crazy.

“Do I need to set an alarm?” Louis asks. He watches through heavy eyes as Harry shuts his laptop and sets on the desk with his bag.

“I’ll set one,” he says.

Louis groans inwardly and says, “Okay,” verbally. He’d been asking with the hope of Harry saying they wouldn’t be in a hurry in the morning.

Harry shuffles around his own bed, pulling back the thick comforter until it’s on the floor and then rolling the top edge of the blanket a few inches back before he gets under the sheets. He tosses all of the pillows onto the floor except for one that he inspects in the lamp light carefully, both sides, before fluffing it and putting it under his head. He pulls the sheet up to his shoulders but leaves the blanket folded down so it covers his body but doesn’t touch his neck or hands.

“What are you doing over there?” Louis asks as Harry is reaching to turn out the light. He visibly startles, like he wasn’t expecting Louis to be watching his every move. It’s a fair expectation though Louis doesn’t really play fair.

“I don’t like touching hotel bedding.”

Louis blinks at him. “You’re literally in the bed.”

“They wash the sheets but they don’t always wash like, the blankets and duvet.” Harry shrugs, “Who knows what people have gotten up to in hotel rooms.”

Louis scrunches his nose and pokes his head out of his cocoon a bit more. “I hadn’t really considered it, actually.”

Harry smiles slowly, “You’re welcome.”

Louis flips him off as he pulls the top blanket off of his body, his skin feeling suspiciously itchy. “I can’t believe you’re trying to freeze me out of the room and then make me reject all of the blankets.”

Harry’s laugh is a snort and Louis rolls his eyes. “You can turn the air conditioning down, if you want. I’m pretty comfortable now.”

“Of course I have to be the one to get out of bed and turn it off. Of course I do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

“Nothing,” Louis mutters as he slips out of bed and over to the AC. He turns the dial higher than it was and smiles when the machine goes quiet. He gets back in bed with an overt awareness of the bedding as he copies Harry’s method of making sure the sheet is the only thing touching his exposed skin. He didn’t realize he’d become germ phobic at twenty-three. This road trip is life changing already.

“Is the room up to your standards now, princess?” Louis asks as he settles back under his covers and fluffs the pillows under his head.

He doesn’t get a response and when he lifts his head to get a better look, he finds Harry’s face relaxed and his eyes closed; Already asleep.

Louis rolls his eyes and then heaves himself out of bed to turn out Harry’s lamp, covering the room in darkness.

*

Someone is choking. Louis can hear them and the panic races through his chest, the broken gasps as he tries to catch his own breath, tries to find who the victim is. His heart pounds, his lungs convulse and then he’s staring at the ceiling of the Quality Inn, sheets wrapped around him tightly and his dream fading quickly.

He swallows and blinks his eyes, disoriented in the dark room until he hears the choking sound again, this time from the bed next to him. He sits up quickly; panic resurfacing when he hears it again.

“Harry,” he says with his voice scratchy from sleep. “Harry, hey.” The only response is another loud snuffle and Louis squints in the darkness to try and see better. The curtains are shut tight, no moonlight to lighten his view. “You okay?” He asks, leaning out of his own bed to get closer to Harry.

Again, there’s no response.

“Are you snoring?” Louis asks loudly as the sound comes again, more identifiable now that his heart isn’t racing. “Of course you are,” he says, defeated, as he flops back down onto his pillow.

Harry makes another choked gasp and then it goes quiet for a moment, a softer sound fluttering next as he smacks his lips in his sleep. It would probably be endearing if quiet anger wasn’t simmering in Louis’s sleepy mind.

He takes a few minutes of trying to sleep again before he realizes it’s pointless. Now that he’s heard Harry snoring, he can’t ignore it. He stacks his pillow on top of his head to block it out but starts to get nervous he’s developing claustrophobia, not to mention he can still fucking hear Harry.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispers as he puts the pillow back where it belongs and lies down. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on the pauses between each snore, the soothing silence. It definitely doesn’t work.

Louis sits up and does the first thing he can think of - he chucks a pillow from his bed toward Harry. His aim is off and it hits the opposite wall before sliding to the ground. He curses under his breath again. Thankful for hotel beds with too many pillows, he takes a second one and heaves it in Harry’s direction. It meets the mark this time as Harry’s choking snore cuts off with a yelp and the distinct sound of someone thrashing around in the sheets.

Louis lays flat on his bed like it’s a game as he watches Harry sit up and look around the room.

“Louis?” He asks into the dark but Louis stays quiet, focusing on his breathing and staying frozen.

Harry gives up easily enough, getting out of bed and going to the bathroom while Louis stays unmoving. As soon as he hears the door of the bathroom shut, he rolls onto his stomach and pulls the sheet up over his head. He squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to fall asleep quickly before Harry gets back in bed. It’s quiet now but Louis knows snoring isn’t cured by pillow fights and he’ll have to take advantage of the momentary reprieve before Harry starts up again.

*

[DAY TWO](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/164849134819/day-two-funks-grove-sirup-funks-grove-illinois)

Pontiac, Illinois

 

Harry’s alarm cuts through the morning like a whip and Louis blinks blearily as the sound pulls him abruptly from sleep. The room is barely lit up with the morning sun and still as cold as ever since the air conditioning seems to have turned on at some point overnight. Louis stretches in his bed and hauls the sheets up tighter over his shoulders.

He watches as Harry rolls over in his bed and stretches his hand out for his phone, turning off the alarm, and then flopping onto his back. “Was I dreaming or did you actually try to smother me with a pillow last night?”

Louis laughs at Harry’s dead pan voice. “You were snoring,” he says like an explanation.

“So you just tried to kill me?” Harry asks, his voice incredulous. He seems to be in a perky mood for an early morning as he looks over at Louis. His hair is all messed up and he has a crease from the pillow on his cheek.

Louis laughs again as he sits up in bed. He scratches the side of his jaw and twists his neck to stretch it. “If that’s what you want to believe, go for it.” He glances at Harry in time to see him smiling to himself as he looks at something on his phone.

“When Niall asked me if I wanted you to come along, the one question I asked was if you were a murderer.”

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Louis smirks as he stands up, heading directly for the air conditioning to turn it off once and for all.

Harry pushes the sheets off of him with his long legs and then sits up, running his hands over his face. “I don’t usually snore,” he says.

“How in the world would you know that?” Louis raises his eyebrows as he waits for Harry’s answer but all he gets is a sheepish smile.

“No one has mentioned it before,” Harry says. He gets out of bed and stretches before ambling over to his bag and hauling it onto the bed to pick out his outfit.

“You’ve got to get better friends,” Louis says. He unzips his bag and pulls out a pair of black jeans and a red crew neck jumper. He’s not planning to make any grand fashion statements in Southern Illinois.

“Is that what we are?” Harry muses without looking up, “Friends?”

“After the snoring, the air conditioning and the bed cover rearranging last night?” Louis grabs socks out of his bag and tosses them with the rest of his clothes. “If you’re trying to get rid of me, you’re doing a great job.”

Harry doesn’t do a very good job of hiding his smile in his bag.

*

“Where are we going?” Louis puts his feet on the dashboard of the car, tossing a handful of Froot Loops in his mouth. He couldn’t help stopping at the breakfast buffet as they were checking out. Harry joined him, grabbing an apple and a cup of coffee, as Louis opted for sugary cereal.

“Funks Grove,” Harry says. He leans over to swat at Louis’s feet but Louis fends him off with his knee and leaves his feet where they are. “There’s a little family there who makes maple syrup.”

Louis looks over the itinerary in his lap. “You spelled syrup wrong.”

Harry shakes his head. “No, it’s right. They spell it like that.”

“With an ‘i’ instead of a ‘y’ _?”_ Louis stares at the word - sirup - and scrunches his nose. “It doesn’t look right.”

“You can fight with them about it when we get there,” Harry says. “But in the meantime, can you program a radio station that doesn’t sound like a swarm of bees?”

To be fair, Louis had been more focused on his cereal than the radio but now that he focuses he can hear the buzzing of the lost signal. “You mean you don’t like this?” Louis smirks as he reaches for the radio. He scrolls through the stations twice but nothing comes up other than a man speaking in a low monotone that he and Harry both veto at the same time.

“I’ll just plug in my phone,” Louis says, reaching for it in the cup holder. “If you trust me as DJ, that is.”

Harry blows a steady stream of air out his lips. “That’s a big task.”

“Should I tell you now that my favorite music is spoken word folk?”

Harry’s lips twitch, “Ironically, that’s my favorite as well.”

“Twins,” Louis says like he means it before connecting the aux cord to his phone and setting his music to shuffle. “Rhiannon” is the first track to play and Harry actually grins as they ease onto the highway 55.

They follow the 55 through more open fields of corn and curve past a town every once in a while before taking an exit onto the Historic Route 66. Louis is appalled they haven’t been on Route 66 the entire time and Harry has to explain that the entire route doesn’t exist intact anymore.

“There are certain parts you can still drive down,” he says as they pull onto the historic portion proudly announced with no less than five signs.

“I feel like there may have been some false advertising involved in this trip,” Louis says. He pulls up on the edge of his sock where it’s stuck in his shoe.

“The advertisement was a one way ticket to LA,” Harry says. “Anything beyond that is just an adventure.”

Louis whistles, “Wow, are you going to make us matching shirts with that slogan?” Harry rolls his eyes but Louis catches his smirk.

Historic Route 66 is about as exciting as Highway 55 with cornfields and the odd cow every once in awhile. The music keeps things semi-interesting through the barren landscape especially when Louis catches Harry softly humming to some of the songs. He plays drums on the steering wheel through the entirety of two Rolling Stones songs and then raps Left Eye’s part of “Chasing Waterfalls” under his breath. Louis starts laughing when he finishes and Harry actually blushes like he didn’t think Louis would notice. It turns out, Harry is just about the only thing worth paying attention to on the open roads of Southern Illinois.

Louis takes that comment back when he sees a yellow billboard that reads BEER NUTS in obnoxious bolded print.

“Beer Nuts,” he reads out loud as they pass. “What’s that?”

Harry shrugs as Ed Sheeran comes over the speakers. “Nuts that taste like beer.”

Louis tilts his head back and forth, considering. “Could be interesting.” The words are barely out of his mouth when they pass the next billboard that reads the same as the first but with FACTORY underneath. Just as quick, a third sign appears with directions to get off the highway at Towanda Avenue

“Harry,” Louis says as they zoom past another sign advertising free samples. “We have to go to the Beer Nut factory.”

Harry doesn’t even miss a beat, “No, we don’t.”

“Yeah we do,” Louis says, sitting up straighter in his seat to look for Towanda Avenue. “That’s like, a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“It’s a nut that tastes like beer, Louis.” Harry glances over at him, “I’ll live without it.”

“I won’t,” Louis says. “And it’s the factory where they make them which is even better. We can go on like, a tour probably.”

“No.”

Louis turns in his seat, “Are you that attached to your little itinerary you can’t even go to the Beer Nut factory? It’s probably a ten minute detour and then we can be on the straight and narrow to get your syrup with an ‘i’ and whatever else you decide to bore me with today.”

“God, you’re annoying,” Harry says, cutting off the end of Louis’s argument. To be fair, it isn’t his best argumentative work considering he doesn’t usually try to insult his opponent as much use facts against them.

“Take me to the Beer Nut factory and I’ll go along with all your other plans for the day.”

Harry looks at him out of the corner of his eye but keeps driving straight ahead. Louis catches the sign indicating less than a mile to Towanda Avenue out of the window of the Jeep. “Come on Harry,” he says. “Just do something fun for once, yeah? You can impress all your friends by saying you’ve had a beer nut.”

Harry shakes his head. “You think eating a beer nut is impressive? You need to realign your priorities.”

Louis crosses his arms, “If you want to live life between the lines and never do anything semi-interesting, that’s up to you.”

Harry takes a deep breath and Louis is pretty sure he’s really offended him now. He sees the exit to Towanda Avenue overhead and then expects to see it pass. When the car jerks to the side and off the main highway to the exit, Louis’s mouth actually drops open. It looks like they’re going to the Beer Nut factory.

“I knew you had it in you,” he says smugly, keeping his arms crossed.

“This isn’t for you,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “I’m doing this for me.”

Louis presses his lips together and looks out the window, pretty sure Harry is lying to him.

*

The Beer Nut Factory of Bloomington, Illinois does not warrant three giant billboards on the side of the highway. They don’t offer tours of the factory only an in-store video, the free sample is four nuts in a cup, and nothing tastes like beer. In fact, the nuts are sticky and sweet and get stuck to Louis’s teeth.

“Wow, I’m really glad we stopped,” Harry deadpans as they leave the store, barely ten minutes after they first arrived. “I’ve always wanted to see a manufacturing factory via video.”

“Personally, I had a blast,” Louis says, still trying to get one part of a nut off his back molar.

“I underestimated your idea of fun.”

“It’s called adventurous,” Louis says as he slides back in the passenger seat.

“It’s called annoying,” Harry says back just as easily as he puts the key in the ignition.

“You need some new adjectives.” Louis puts his feet on the dashboard and smiles sweetly when Harry glares. “All you do is call me annoying.”

“I’ll work on it,” he says with an eye roll, reversing the Jeep out of the nearly empty Beer Nut Factory parking lot. Louis plugs his phone back into the stereo and settles into his seat. It wasn’t anywhere close to being fun but he’ll take all the credit for messing up Harry’s itinerary again - it’s quickly becoming his favorite activity.

*

Funk’s Grove, home of syrup spelled incorrectly, is a pretty little oasis off the highway. The maple trees seem to go for miles on either side of them as Harry drives down the center lane of the farm, a car behind them and one a little further in front. The leaves are just starting to change and there are workers walking between all of the trees with scissors and buckets - doing syrup-related activities as far as Louis can tell.

“We won’t actually get to see the syrup being made,” Harry says as they steer into a parking area outside of a barn. There are more cars here than the Beer Nut Factory, that’s for sure. “The sap only runs in the late winter and the beginning of spring.”

Louis clicks his tongue, “You mean, we’re wasting precious time on something we can’t even see? A manufacturing factory via video again?” Harry gets out of the car without responding and Louis grins into the silence.

There’s a tour group gathering near the barn and though Louis hates tour groups, Harry jumps right in and Louis is forced to follow. It’s not like he can go wander the forest alone; or, make it back out alive if he did. Wilderness studies were never his strong suit in elementary school.

“Do you think we get to taste it?” Louis asks Harry. “My Froot Loops and four Beer Nuts aren’t holding me over.”

“Really?” Harry glances over. “They were both such nutritious options.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Mom? Is that you?”

Harry looks like he wants to lunge at him but a weary glance from the older couple next to them melts his glare into a soft smile toward them. Louis would bet quite a bit of money, Harry will never direct that smile at him.

A moment later, the group is greeted by the Funk Family who, Louis would assume, owns all of Funk’s Grove and the trees surrounding them. The husband and wife, Luke and Lisa, start to give an overview of the farm and how their process works while a handful of small kids run around their feet, laughing and shouting over each other.

Louis can’t help smiling down at them as they shriek, the facts of the farm fading into muted background noise. One of the little girls with braids in her hair catches him watching and smiles, showing a couple of missing teeth. Louis’s eyes go wide as he points to his own mouth and she smiles impossibly wider before running along with the rest of the group. Louis looks back up in time to see Harry watching him but Louis doesn’t meet his eyes. He’s really not up to being scolded again.

“I apologize the sap isn’t running for you,” Lisa says with a wry smile to the group. “Unfortunately, we don’t control nature around here.” There’s a stilted laugh through the group and Louis sighs. He hates tour groups.

“Feel free to look around and poke your head in wherever,” Luke says as he gestures around the farm. “If you get lost, I can’t promise we’ll find you before the snow comes in the winter so be aware of your surroundings.”

The group starts to disperse slowly, most of the people heading toward the sign over the main house that says ‘Free Samples’. Louis hopes he and Harry won’t be far behind them but of course Harry says he’s forgotten his camera and abandons Louis to go back to the car to get it.

Louis doesn’t plan to go far when Harry is gone but the little girl from earlier seems to be waiting for the moment he’s alone to go up and grab his hand, tugging slightly.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” He asks as she starts walking away, her strength not quite enough to pull Louis along.

“I show you the rabbits,” she says determinedly, her steps slowing at Louis’s resistance. Lucky for her, he happens to be easy for kids that remind him of his sisters so he follows after her, glancing back over his shoulder to see if Harry has noticed. Harry is just standing up from the Jeep when Louis catches his eye, confusion playing over his features. Louis holds up a finger to tell him to wait before focusing back on the chubby fingers holding his.

“What’s your name?” Louis asks as they curve around the barn to where there is higher grass growing.

“Elsa,” she says with a sly smile that makes Louis think that’s not her name at all.

“Like from Frozen?” He asks dubiously.

She grins, clearly happy with his recognition as she nods. She stops abruptly before Louis can add much else and points the ground. “Baby rabbits.”

Louis leans over to see over the grass at the edge of the barn, not exactly sure what he’s going to be seeing. Sure enough, there is a fluffy brown ball that, on further inspection, is actually a bunch of baby rabbits sleeping close together.

“Oh wow,” he says as he crouches to get closer. The little girl - possibly Elsa but probably not - crouches with him, smiling again.

“They’re sleeping.”

“They are,” Louis says. “So we have to be quiet, huh?” She nods enthusiastically putting one finger over her lips. “Do you think they’re having good dreams?”

“Yes,” she says and she’s so sure of herself it makes something in Louis’s heart lurch. He loves his younger siblings for the fact they’re his own blood but for the way they’re like Elsa too - so sure of a happy ending because no one has yet to tell them otherwise.

“What are they dreaming about?”

Louis nearly falls face first into the barn at Harry’s voice but catches himself with a hand out at the last minute. Harry is standing closer to the corner of the barn, his eyes on Elsa.

“Maybe flowers,” she says with a shrug.

Harry nods knowingly, “Maybe they’re dreaming about what their mom is going to make them for dinner.”

“Bunnies don’t cook,” she says with a fluttery laugh. They probably don’t dream either but Louis won’t be the one to say.

“They don’t?” Harry plays shocked well and Louis finds himself smiling.

“No, silly,” Elsa says with a wide grin.

“Julia, will you come over here?”

Harry and Louis look over to where Lisa is standing and calling for her daughter. Louis and Harry both lift their hands in a wave at the same time as Julia/Elsa looks up at Louis, alarmed.

“My real name is Elsa,” she says, eyes wide.

“I know,” Louis says. “Julia is your code name, probably.” His knees are starting to ache from his position so he stands up, dusting his palms on the thighs of his jeans.

Julia seems thrilled at Louis’s new addition to her game and runs away giggling, her mom smiling when she catches her and pulls her up into her arms.

Harry comes over to where Louis had been and peeks over to the sleeping bunny pile.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Louis asks, glancing around.

“There are two rabbits in the bushes behind you,” Harry says, still looking at the babies. “I’m guessing they’re the parents or irresponsible babysitters.”

Louis glances behind them to the bushes but doesn’t see any other rabbits. He’ll take Harry’s word for it. “Were you a Boy Scout?” Louis asks as Harry takes a picture of the sleeping rabbits, the quiet click seeming too loud.

“No,” Harry says, laughing as he lets go of his camera so it hangs around his neck. “I just notice more things than you do.”

“That’s debatable,” Louis says as they walk away from the sleeping bunny nest. “Did you notice they’re giving out free samples up at the house?”

“Of course I did,” Harry scoffs. “Don’t underestimate me, Louis.”

“My bad,” Louis says with his hands up, half-smiling.

The main house is red with white shutters and colorful Adirondack chairs along the side, a wraparound porch leading inside. Harry takes pictures as they approach, twisting and turning to get the best angle of whatever he’s shooting. Louis leaves him to it and goes inside the front screen door. The house has been converted to a little shop inside with bottles of syrup in every size, maple leaf candy and Shrunk Family apparel stretching end to end on one wall.

It’s overwhelming but Louis spots the sample area easily and grabs two of the small paper cups for him and Harry. They should probably taste the stuff before he goes buying a five gallon bottle of it.

“I got you a shot,” Louis says as he holds out Harry’s cup. “Of pure sugar.”

Harry slips the lens cover back on his camera and takes the cup in his hand. He twists it around inspecting it, clearly unsure what to do with it. “Do we drink it?”

Louis scrunches his nose. “I didn’t really think to ask, actually.”

He watches as Harry brings the cup up to his nose, sniffs, and then sticks his tongue out like a cat to taste it. Louis laughs when he does it again, thinking Harry may just be an oversized feline as it is.

“Is it good?” He asks.

“It actually is,” Harry says with another lick. “It makes me want a waffle.”

Louis sticks his finger in the syrup and then licks it off. “Definitely makes me want a waffle,” he agrees.

“Is this all they sell in there?” Harry asks, his tongue still swirling around the edge of the cup. It’s a bit erotic, honestly.

“They have bottles of it and candy made out of it.”

“No waffles?”

“Sadly, no.”

Harry pushes his lips forward, “That’s disappointing.”

“As disappointing as the Beer Nut Factory?” Louis asks with a smirk.

“No, that one is in a class all its own.”

They don’t end up buying anything at the little store though Harry does go poke his head in just to see what it looks like. The farm is pretty serene as they walk back toward the car, quietness seeping slowly even though people are milling about and touching the closest maple trees. It would be a nice place to live, Louis thinks. Not that he’d want to have to make syrup for the rest of his life, though. That doesn’t sound all that pleasant considering his hands are already sticky from his one cup of it.

The Funk Family seems to have thought of everything, though, as they stumble across a garbage can adhered to a wooden pole with a hand sanitizer dispenser. They both toss their cups and wash their hands the best they can. Harry does his twice and Louis suspects it has something to do with the expensive camera strapped to his chest.

There’s a wall of signs near the parking lot and Louis stops automatically, already knowing Harry will want to take a picture.

“Did you realize we’re halfway done with Illinois?” Louis asks, staring up at the sign. He can’t say he knows much at all about where they’re going or where they are on the map.

“Yeah,” Harry says, “That’s why this was on my list to stop. It’s the halfway mark.”

“And here I thought you just had a sweet tooth,” Louis says, smirking.

Harry continues taking a few more shots of the signs, tilting the camera just right. “No but we’re lucky I have teeth after the beer nuts. There’ll be remnants of those on my back molars when I die, probably.”

“Probably,” Louis agrees considering he hasn’t fully gotten all the bits off his teeth either.

“Do you want to be in a picture?” Louis asks. “Or do you only want boring pictures of signs?”

“Hey,” Harry drawls, “Don’t hate on my artistic perspective.”

“Artistic perspective,” Louis repeats like a foreign language. “You’re insufferable.”

Harry grins at him. “I’m really not. You just happen to bring out the best in me.”

“Figures.” Louis reaches for the camera, “Go stand by the sign and I’ll take your picture.”

Harry steps back, his hands going to the sides of his camera like an automatic reaction.

“I know it’s an expensive camera,” Louis says. “And I’m sure you’ll hang me by eyelids if I break it.” Harry winces at the graphic description and Louis smiles. “Let me take your picture, H.”

The nickname - just one letter instead of five - slips before Louis can stop it but Harry doesn’t seem to notice. He hands over the camera slowly, and doesn’t let go until Louis is holding it with both hands.

“You’ll be a great dad someday,” Louis notes. “As long as you treat your kids like this fucking camera.” Harry huffs a laugh, running his fingers back through his hair. “Oh wait, you forgot the camera in the car this morning. Never mind.”

Harry flips him off as he takes a few steps backward to be closer to all of the Funk’s Grove and Route 66 signs. “I didn’t know if there would be anything worth taking pictures of.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say taking a picture of you is _worth_ it but whatever helps you sleep at night.” Louis grins at Harry’s offended face and snaps a picture for safekeeping.

Louis tries to take his momentary photographer job seriously as he holds the camera up and looks through the viewfinder, adjusting his own spacing to get Harry fully in the shot. There was something about thirds in his introductory photography class when he was seventeen and though he’s not sure what it means, he’s pretty sure Harry should be on the edge of the frame.  “Move to the right,” he instructs.

Harry follows easily, taking a step and then backing up again. “Good?”

“Yep,” Louis says, “Now just smile.”

Harry’s smile isn’t there - or, it is, but it’s one Louis hasn’t seen before. He doesn’t show his teeth and the corner of his lips barely turn up.

“Oh god,” he says, “This isn’t your mugshot, Harry.”

The comment actually makes Harry laugh and Louis clicks the shutter button again, hoping he catches it. Like a smack upside his memory, the picture of Harry in the collar comes back into his mind. He wonders who took that picture - if it was someone Harry was dating or a photographer, how they got him to make the face he did, his head tilted back slightly.

“Photoshoot is over,” Harry announces perhaps nervous by the way Louis has frozen with the camera against his face. Louis watches through the viewfinder as Harry comes closer and then jolts when real-life Harry takes the camera from his grip.

“They turn out okay?” Louis asks as Harry reviews with the screen on the back. His mouth is dry as it tends to get whenever he thinks about Harry’s BDSM Instagram photo. In the past twenty-four hours he’s thought about it far too much to be normal, probably.

“I’m a natural model,” Harry says seriously, “So, yeah.”

“If they end up in GQ, I’ll need photography credit,” Louis says as he starts to walk back toward the Jeep. It only takes a moment for him to realize Harry hasn’t followed.

“What?” He asks, turning back around.

“Do you want your photo taken?” Harry tilts his head toward the sign.

Louis shakes his head, never a fan of photos and particularly not on a farm. “No,” he says. “Now if you would have thought of this at the Beer Nut Factory, it might be a different story.”

He catches Harry’s smile before he leads the way back to the Jeep.

*

“You realize I can drive, right?” Louis asks once they’re back on the route and Harry is yawning into his hand. “You don’t just have to be drugged out of your mind to get a break.”

“I don’t mind it,” Harry says over another yawn and Louis gives him a judging look. “I’m serious. I should have had more coffee this morning is all.”

“You mean that brown water from the Quality Inn?” Louis raises his eyebrows, “I’m not sure that had caffeine in it.”

“I’ll get something at lunch,” Harry says.

“When’s lunch?” Louis feels like a petulant child on a class field trip but Froot Loops, beer nuts and a sip of syrup will only get him so far. He does have some breakfast bars he stole from the Quality Inn but he’d like to save those for a desperate situation.

“We’re going to lunch right now,” Harry says. “It’s the birthplace of the corn dog.” Louis stares at the side of Harry’s head and Harry must be able to feel it because he smiles slowly. “What’s wrong with that?” He asks as he looks over.

“Nothing,” Louis says innocently. “Just another fascinating stop on Harry’s Wild Adventure.”

“Like you have a better idea,” Harry says incredulously. “You made us go to a place that handed out nuts like they were golden nuggets.”

“It was an adventure,” Louis says, echoing the same sentiment as earlier. “And look, it’s given us a point of conversation at least ten times now.”

“Amazing,” Harry says stoically.

“What’s after the corn dogs?”

Harry smirks and taps his palms on the steering wheel. “We’re going to a historic park where there’s also the world’s largest catsup bottle.”

“Catsup?” Louis says loudly, “You mean ketchup, right?”

Harry looks over with a grin far too pretty for the teasing in his eyes. “All of the websites say catsup.”

“Between this and syrup spelled with an ‘i’, I’m going to change my major to English and become a teacher just so the youth aren’t corrupted forever.”

“Or you keep going with your law degree and sue the family owned syrup farm and the state’s treasured historic site for corrupting the youth and then roll around in your millions.”

Louis shakes his head and puts his feet on the dashboard. “Wow, I didn’t realize we had a comedian in the car with us.” Harry’s laugh is ridiculously dorky and Louis rolls his eyes to cover how much he likes the sound of it.

“Can you check how far away the catsup bottle is from the corndog place?” Harry asks, still smiling. “I might have you drive that one if it’s far.”

“Sure, I’ll check how far the ketchup bottle is,” Louis says, emphasizing ketchup and making Harry laugh again. He pulls out the itinerary journal and thumbs through to the right page. “Wait, are you admitting you don’t have the entire trip memorized?”

Harry glances over and shakes his head. “Not the distances between, just the actual places.”

“What are we doing tomorrow then?” He runs his finger down the itinerary to DAY 3 to check Harry’s work - he’d make a great teacher, he thinks.

“Six Flags.”

“Harry,” Louis says, his finger pausing at Six Flags, “Why is there a question mark next to Six Flags?”

Harry shrugs a shoulder, “I wasn’t sure if I would feel like it.”

“Oh, you’re going to feel like it,” Louis says, putting his finger over the question mark so it disappears. “After a giant ketchup bottle and a fucking corn dog, you’re going to love Six Flags.”

He can’t help the excitement in his voice, the twelve-year-old trapped inside of his heart suddenly punching and kicking to be set free. Finally, there’s a bright spot in the darkness though he can’t believe his missed it in his rundown of places the day before. This is definitely a big one.

“Maybe,” Harry says. “We’ll see.”

Louis turns to gape at him when he notices Harry’s hands are tight on the wheel, his knuckles white and jaw clenched. Louis doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly harmful but he can’t exactly be sure so he waits a quiet moment to see if Harry offers more. Nothing comes and Louis lets it drop - he’s sure whatever it is will resurface again - either as a slammed car door or a sulky pout. Louis is learning Harry’s tells already.

“It’s about two hours from the corndogs to the ketchup bottle,” he says, answering the original question and closing the journal. “I’ll drive it and you can take a nap.”

Harry nods but his hands are still tight on the steering wheel. Louis thinks he’ll wait it out this time - let Harry tell him when he feels like it. Or, at least he’ll try to wait.

*

“Oh, a grilled cheese sandwich sounds good.”

“You’re kidding.”

“What? It does.”

Louis turns to Harry and crosses his arms as the line of people in front of them moves forward slightly. “You are not getting a grilled cheese at the world famous corn dog place.”

“First of all, you can’t control me,” Harry says crossing his arms to match Louis. “Second, I didn’t say I was getting one. I said it sounds good.”

“I’m not controlling you,” Louis says with an eye roll.

It earns them both a look from the parents of the family in front of them. Simultaneously, Harry and Louis paste on smiles until the couple looks away.

The Cozy Dog Drive In is loaded with people, which should be expected for an end of summer day around lunch but Louis is hungry and his patience is wearing thin. The restaurant is gaudier than Louis had imagined a roadside diner could be - all the way from the larger than life hotdogs embracing on the sign out front to the bright blue checkered linoleum floors and Route 66 plaques adhered to every visible wall. The food smells good at least so he’s kept his complaining minimal - until Harry’s grilled cheese comment at least.

They both order standard corn dogs with fries though Harry adds on onion rings and potato salad in rapid-fire fashion like he can’t help himself.

“Are you going to order the entire menu?” Louis asks as he offers his credit card to the cashier. Harry promised he’ll get their next meal - not that Louis is really keeping track. Nothing, it seems, has been very expensive thus far.

“Sorry,” Harry says, somewhat sheepishly. The cashier takes the card and swipes it before handing over a numbered plaque and their receipt. “I was excited looking at all the food.” He gestures at the menu.

“And yet you didn’t get the grilled cheese,” Louis muses as they walk away to find a table.

“I didn’t want to get yelled at,” Harry says. He points to a booth in the corner and they both head for it, spinning around kids and their flustered parents to get there.

“I wouldn’t yell,” Louis says. “I would just publicly shame you in front of all these people.”

Harry shakes his head, eyes wide. “How in the sweet hell are you best friends with Niall Horan?”

Louis grins at that. It’s not the first time he’s been asked especially considering how different he and Niall come across to everyone else. “We met when we were kids and before he knew better,” Louis says. Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis laughs. “Seriously, though. Haven’t you heard that opposites attract? He was always the nice one and I was the troublemaker and then we wore off on each other a little bit.” Louis shrugs, “I don’t know how else to explain it, really.”

“Opposites attract is an understatement,” Harry says wryly but there’s no venom in his voice.

Louis flips their numbered placard between his fingers and Harry snatches it from him to set on the end of the table.  “How did you become friends with Niall, then? You don’t seem all that opposite.”

“I think we’re opposite in a different way than you and him are. Like, I’m pretty quiet around people I don’t know.”

Louis hums and nods. So far Harry has been pretty vocal with him but perhaps that’s what happens when you shove two people in a car and send them off on a road trip.

“So it’s harder for me to make friends in big groups, I guess.”

“And Niall makes friends with everyone who so much as looks at him.”

Harry smirks, “Exactly. He’s the kind of guy I usually avoid because he likes ice breaker games and actually follows up when he says he wants to get a coffee.”

Louis laughs and scrunches his nose. That sounds about right.

“The first day of our internship, he introduced himself to everyone personally and then never left my side. I think he could tell I was shy but thought I was worth getting to know anyway.”

“I’m sure he did,” Louis says. “He doesn’t make friends with just anyone, you know.” He remembers what Niall first said about Harry - his quiet personality and tough shell. Louis is pretty sure he’s getting to see both of those firsthand.

Harry smirks and lifts a shoulder. “Guess I’m one of the lucky ones.”

Louis actually smiles and feels like he needs to text Niall to congratulate him on being such a good human. If Louis had met Harry and he was shy - he would have moved right along. It’s probably better fate thrust them together this way instead, friendship by force. Or something like that.  

When their number is called, Harry goes up to the counter for their order and brings back a tray heaping with food. Louis has never been one for a detox but something about the first two days of the trip already have him feeling like he’ll need one.

The corn dogs aren’t special in the least – and actually taste the same way the corn dogs at the State Fair tasted when Louis was seven. Harry tries to hesitate but then reluctantly agrees. The potato salad and onion rings are both above average which makes Harry smiles pleasantly when Louis tells him - like he’s the one who cooked them or something.

“They sell merchandise?” Harry asks when they’re nearly done eating. He grabs an advertisement sitting inconspicuously at the back edge of their table. Louis is sure there have been countless kids to grab the paper tent and shake it at their parents. Granted, Harry is twenty-one and waving the flier toward Louis but the point stands.

“I guess,” Louis says, batting the paper away. “If you really want to remember a below-average corndog for the rest of your life.”

Harry’s loud cackle cuts him off as he pushes the page toward Louis again. There are images of shirts and sweatshirts, key chains and water bottles in different colors but Louis’s eyes fall to where Harry’s pointing. A yellow shirt that says, “I like my wieners cozy.”

“Is that a play on circumcision?” Louis asks, grabbing the flier to look even closer.

Another laugh bubbles from Harry’s lips, his eyes shining. “I don’t know but I definitely want one.”

“You didn’t buy maple syrup at the syrup farm but you want a raunchy t-shirt from the corndog place?”

Harry smiles, “Maybe I do. I’m going up front to look around.”

Louis shakes his head as he watches Harry make his way over to the front counter, all of the merchandise pinned up behind the cashier - he’s not sure how they missed it before. He studies Harry for a moment more, the way he smiles at the girl behind the desk and leans forward on his elbows as they talk, the way she blushes when she laughs. Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to his last onion ring. Harry may be shy but he’s certainly charming - the worst part being Louis isn’t sure he even realizes he’s doing it.

He’s just stacking their empty paper trays together when Harry comes back with a smug smile and his hands behind his back.

“What’d you do?” Louis asks, leaning to the side to try and see around Harry’s back.

Harry’s smug smile turns to a grin as he holds up his hand and a key chain hanging from his finger. It looks like the I Love NY t-shirts from every clichéd tourist shop except instead of a city it says wieners and Louis laughs so hard he almost snorts.

“Don’t be jealous,” Harry says sitting back down in the booth. “I’ll put it on my keys so we can both use it.”

“What a gentleman,” Louis says airily, his smile stuck on his lips even when he presses his mouth together.

*

“I think I would be happier if I’d gotten the grilled cheese,” Harry says once they’ve cleared their table and head back outside, the new keychain secure on the Jeep keys.

“You’re going to hold that over my head for the rest of this trip, aren’t you?”

“Between that and the beer nuts?” Harry smirks, “Of course I am.”

Louis rolls his eyes and holds out his hand, “Throw me the keys.” Harry takes him literally and tosses his key ring right at Louis’s face. He misses catching it completely and then has to run in the path of a car to pick it back up. Harry is laughing when he unlocks the door and Louis flips him off.

Louis puts the address of the next stop on his phone and catches Harry dusting off the dashboard with his hands where Louis’s feet have been all day. Finally he leans back in his seat and stays still. When he sees Louis has been watching him looks out the opposite window defiantly.

“Giant ketchup bottle, here we come,” Louis announces as he steers the Jeep around yet another family heading for the front doors of Cozy Dog.

“Unless you just drive right past it,” Harry says, still looking at the passenger window.

“Watch it or I just might.”

“You wouldn’t,” Harry says, twisting to look at Louis very seriously.

Louis doesn’t feel like he should keep tempting fate by poking at Harry so he just laughs without saying anything else. It seems to pacify Harry as an answer because he doesn’t respond.

*

The highway is bracketed by green as Louis drives the next two hours, the leaves of the trees starting to nearly shimmer with their last breath before they turn to brown. Louis’s favorite season of the year is fall though they don’t necessarily get one in Southern California. He’ll take what he can get in Illinois - anything beats the endless corn from before.

Harry falls asleep before they’re halfway there, his head tucked against the window and arms hugged around his body. Louis turns down the car stereo at one point to see if he’s snoring but it stays quiet. He half wants to blast some sort of rap song or EDM to see if he can rouse Harry into alarming wakefulness but he restrains himself. So far, he’s not completely sure that Harry understands his brand of humor and being trapped in a car isn’t the best way to start to figure it out.

Louis gets lost twice once he turns off the freeway, taking the wrong turn and ending up in someone’s driveway and then passing the turn into the park completely which he marks with a very loud, “Motherfucker,” which manages to rouse Harry from his sleep.

It’s just perfect timing that he happens to catch Louis in the middle of a U-Turn and probably assumes Louis is trying to mess with him again. Ironic, of course, because Louis is actually trying to prove he’s a trustworthy travel companion. He doesn’t want to be sentenced to the passenger seat for the next two weeks.

“Louis,” he says, careful and measured, as he sits up. “What are you doing?”

“I missed the turn,” Louis explains as a car honks at him for veering into the wrong lane during his U-Turn. He flips them off as Harry rubs his eyes. “I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Okay,” Harry says and Louis can’t tell if he believes him or not. He doesn’t really have time to dwell on it before he’s hitting the breaks for the turn as he nearly misses it (again).

“They really don’t make this easy to find,” he mutters as they drive down the winding and shaded pathway, trees curling over onto the road just because they feel like it.

“Can’t imagine it’s a stop on everyone’s list,” Harry says with a yawn.

“Except us,” Louis says with faked enthusiasm, “We love giant condiment statues.”

“It’s not like we’ll ever be back here,” Harry says. “Or, at least I don’t plan to be. Might as well see it once.”

“Might as well,” Louis agrees with a pasted on smile. It’s one of the stupider things Harry has made him do in the last thirty-six hours. He’s a bit worried about what other hidden non-gems are in Harry’s itinerary. He might need to look into that the next time he’s allowed to get the precious journal out of the glove compartment.

“That’s it,” Harry says suddenly and Louis slams the breaks yet again as they both lurch forward against their seatbelts.

It’s hard to miss although Louis almost did. The world’s largest ketchup bottle takes the form of a water tower sitting tall over the highway like a red beacon. There’s a parking lot near the bottom with one car pulling out. Louis signals right and pulls in, parking in the very front row and cutting the ignition.

“Here we are, Harry. Illinois’s worst attraction, possibly the worst in the entire country.”

Harry rolls his eyes as he opens his door and climbs out. “It’s kind of cool,” he says, shielding his eyes against the sun to look up at it.

Louis’s face shows his disbelief but he schools it into something more neutral when Harry leans back in the car to get his camera. Louis doesn’t think this needs to be documented but what does he know. He doesn’t even think he’s going to get out of the Jeep until Harry starts walking away and then he feels forced to join him. That, or roast in the warm car.

“I don’t think it’s the worst in the country,” Harry says when Louis catches up to him. “The world’s biggest ball of paint is in America. People add like, a layer of paint every day when they come in and it just gets bigger and bigger.”

Louis misses a step before he continues. “What the fuck? That sounds awful.”

“It’s a pretty interesting artistic feat,” Harry says, pausing and lifting his camera as he tilts his head back. “A ton of different artists responsible for something record breaking.”

“Artists,” Louis snorts. “That sounds like a tourist trap and a waste of time.”

“It’d be cool to see it,” Harry says with a shrug. He squats lower to get his shot of the water tower and Louis puts his hands on his hips.

“Please, dear god, tell me the giant ball of paint is not in our path.”

“It’s in Arkansas,” Harry says without missing a beat. Louis kind of can’t believe he’s memorized the home of such an atrocity. “So, no.”

Louis isn’t religious but he crosses himself and kisses his fingertips anyway. He opens his eyes to Harry watching him and smiles sheepishly.

“I don’t like how close we are to it,” Harry says, backing up. “I want a shot from like, the middle of the freeway. It’s a better vantage point.”

Louis turns toward the way they’ve came - the quiet road leading down to the water tower and the six lanes of freeway just beyond. It’s not exactly busy but the cars aren’t going slow by any means. He’s about to ask Harry how he plans to get there when Harry turns and starts walking away - directly toward the highway.

“You’re not actually going out there,” Louis calls after him.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry says without turning around, putting his camera strap around his neck.

“I’m not going with you.”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

Louis sticks his tongue out at Harry’s retreating figure.

The next ten minutes are a mix of nerve wracking and entertaining as Harry literally dodges traffic to get to the middle divider of the freeway. There are honking horns and swerving trucks as Louis covers his eyes, very sure he’s about to see something disgusting happen before his very eyes.

Harry does make it to the middle eventually and when he turns around to take the picture, Louis can see his smile from the parking lot, lighting up his face.

“An adrenaline junkie, great,” Louis says with an eye roll as he walks back toward the Jeep. He definitely wouldn’t have pegged Harry for one if his life depended on it - not Mr. Orderly Plans who does boring things like taste maple syrup.

Watching Harry duck and dive his way back across the freeway is another heart pounding moment as Louis realizes he doesn’t even know Harry’s mother’s name. If he ends up flattened on the highway, he’s going to have to call Niall to tell Harry’s family and that is a phone call he doesn’t want to make. Before he can really start to panic about it, Harry is running back across the quieter road, his hands secured to his camera and the smile still on his face.

“That got my heart racing,” he says when he’s close enough to Louis.

“I hope you got a picture that is going to publish in National Geographic,” Louis says drily, not betraying his own fear for Harry’s safety from a moment earlier.

“Probably not,” Harry says with a shrug. “But it was fun.” Louis fish mouths for a moment and then let’s it go - maybe Harry Styles is a bit more of an anomaly than he realized.

“I’ll keep driving,” Louis says at a loss for anything else to say. “I don’t mind it.”

“Cool,” Harry says, heading for the passenger seat. “We just need to cross the state line to Missouri and the Chain of Rocks Bridge and then find a hotel for the night.”

“Chain of Rocks Bridge?” Louis asks as he puts it in his Maps. “Another thriller, I see.”

“It’s a bridge built on top of boulders,” Harry says. He plugs his phone into the stereo and looks for music as Louis pulls out of the parking lot. Clearly he’s been relieved of DJ duty.

“Again, sounds thrilling,” Louis says.

“Are you going to say that about everything we do?”

“Not if we go to Six Flags,” Louis says. “I won’t complain about that.”

“There’s still a question mark by that one,” Harry says smugly.

“Is that a threat?” Louis asks, looking over with his eyebrows raised.

Harry just turns up the stereo and motions like he can’t hear. Louis shakes his head as he focuses back on the road before them.

*

The Chain of Rocks Bridge is about as exciting as Louis imagines it to be when they approach. True to Harry’s description, the steel bridge is suspended over a line of boulders and curves in the middle to form an L-shape.

“What do we do here?” Louis asks, pulling into yet another small parking area. This one, at least, is mostly filled with cars which is a slightly encouraging sign.

“Walk across it.” Harry takes off his seatbelt before Louis is even in a parking space. He twists around in his seat to see the bridge like an eager child and Louis has to give him - his enthusiasm hasn’t waned while Louis’s has slowly depleted all day. “There are restaurants and stuff on the other side.”

The mention of food is enough to get Louis out of the car, resting his foot on the bumper to tie his shoes before they really get started.

“Oh sick, the sun is getting ready to set,” Harry says from the other side of the car.  “That’ll be gorgeous over the river.”

“You sound like a grandma at a retirement home,” Louis comments, following Harry around to the edge of the car. Harry snarls his lip at him.

They both grab sweatshirts from the back of the car - Harry’s pink and Louis’s black which seems to sum up everything about them in a color spectrum.

For what it’s worth, the sun setting over the Mississippi River is stunning, the colors bleeding into the sky as they walk along the bridge. Some people ride bicycles and there are a few joggers but mostly people stroll. Louis does notice that most people seem to be holding hands and in romantic relationships while he and Harry mosey through them like ships passing.

They pause in the middle for Harry to get [some better shots](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/164958057049/day-two-chain-of-rocks-bridge-st-louis-missouri) of the light reflecting in the water, the wind starting to pick up around them and making Louis happy for his sweatshirt. He tucks his hands in his sleeves as he looks out over the water, endless in either direction with dark greenery along the banks. There’s something about water he finds absolutely mesmerizing and Harry must agree as they linger in the center for a while before continuing along to the other edge.

There are plenty of restaurants along the little inlet at the edge of the bridge - two diners Louis can see, an ice creamery and an Italian place.

“Let’s stay away from the diners,” Harry says, already matching Louis’s silent thoughts. “I think we’ll find plenty of places like that for the next couple of weeks.”

Louis nods and points to Gianni’s - the Italian place pretending to be authentic on the edge if the Missouri river. “You good with pasta, then?”

Harry smiles, “Love pasta.”

“Finally something we agree on,” Louis teases as they cross the small square to the restaurant, Harry snapping a photo of the front before they go in.

*

“Tell me why you put a question mark next to Six Flags,” Louis says bluntly once they’ve placed their order for dinner, the wind still curling softly around them and the water gentle in the background.

Louis is pretty sure the hostess mistook them for a couple considering she’s sat them on the candlelit back porch overlooking water and offered them complimentary wine before even handing them menus. Not that Louis is going to complain - free Pinot Noir has never tasted so good.

“I just wasn’t sure about it,” Harry says. He lifts his glass of wine and looks out over the water. Louis doesn’t know him well but he’s pretty sure he can already tell when he’s lying. This would be one of those moments.

“You didn’t plan anything else, though,” Louis says, not letting it drop. “You only put Six Flags with a question mark and then the next city. Do you really mean that you were planning to waste a day if you don’t go to Six Flags?” Harry looks back at him, his gaze unimpressed. “What were you planning to do? Drive in circles?”

Harry shakes his head and takes another sip. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Louis raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “Harry Styles, owner of the road trip and fierce enforcer of the itinerary, doesn’t know what he’s going to do?”

Harry rolls his eyes and looks away again. “Will you drop it?”

“No, definitely not.” Louis adjusts in his chair and brings his glass of wine closer. “Why is there a question mark next to the amusement park?”

Harry is quiet for a moment and then mutters something Louis can’t understand.

“What?” He leans closer to Harry, mindful of the lit candle between them. He doesn’t really want to catch himself on fire during his interrogation.

Harry turns back and lifts his chin slightly. “I don’t like roller coasters.”

Louis blinks, “Okay?”

“So I didn’t want to go to an amusement park where I was too scared to go on the rides.”

Louis holds up a hand to stop Harry. “You don’t like roller coasters or you’re scared of them?”

Harry takes a deep breath and must decide that answering Louis is inevitable as he exhales. “Both.”

Louis scratches his jaw, eyebrows pulling together as he tries to figure out Harry’s game plan. “Why write it down if you weren’t planning to go?”

Harry licks his bottom lip and takes a drink of wine, bigger than the last. Louis matches him and they set their glasses down simultaneously. “I thought I would drive there and see if I could get up the guts to go inside. Like, if I looked at it from the parking lot, I would guilt myself into going inside and going on the rides.”

Louis shakes his head, not following. “You ran into traffic today without a second thought but you want to stand outside an amusement park, somewhere there are actual safety regulations, and see if your balls are big enough to go inside?”

Harry glares at Louis. “Can you please just let this go?”

“Absolutely not,” Louis says shaking his head. “This is the most interesting thing I’ve learned about you in two days.”

Silence lingers and Harry looks away toward the restaurant, probably wishing he could apparate like Harry Potter before he finally looks back.

“I like to be in control of stuff,” Harry starts.

“No, really?” Louis smiles and motions for Harry to go on.

“Yes, really,” Harry says with a flick of his head. “But sometimes I wish I wasn’t.” He looks up and Louis isn’t sure he’s telling the full truth but, then again, he doesn’t expect Harry to just start laying out his life problems right there on the table two days into the trip. “I’m trying to be better about being spontaneous,” he says.

Louis stays perfectly still because he doesn’t want to cut Harry off with the truth - that he’s not very good at it.  

“Something like going to take a picture in the middle of the freeway,” he says with a slight smile, “Is more spontaneous than I’ve been in a very long time.”

Louis isn’t sure if he should pity Harry or not. Tempting death is spontaneous but surely he’s done something more fun than that in the last weeks, or months at least. “And roller coasters?”

“Roller coasters,” Harry says with another deep breath, “Just freak me the fuck out. There’s a difference between conquering a fear and being spontaneous.”

Louis narrows his eyes, weighing the two. “I think they can intersect,” he says. “Sometimes it’s easiest to overcome something spontaneously.”

Harry smiles without showing his teeth. “Maybe,” he says but Louis doesn’t believe him.

The waiter comes with their food then - fettuccini Alfredo for Louis and eggplant parmesan for Harry with a basket of bread and a refill of wine. For the first time all day, Louis feels pretty damn content.

“Let’s go to Six Flags tomorrow,” Louis says once they thank the waiter and he leaves them. “I’m making the executive decision.”

Harry picks up his fork and half-smiles, the corner of his lips quirking up. “I had a feeling you might do that.”

Louis twirls his fork in his pasta and flips it around to help it cool. “I’m doing it partly because I’m selfish and I want to go,” he smiles, “And partly because it’ll give you the chance to face your fear. If you want.” He shrugs, “Or, you can go on all the baby rides while I have a blast.”

Harry uses his knife to cut off a bite of his own dinner. “I’ll go but I’m not making any promises,” he says. “So I hope you like going on roller coasters alone.”

Louis smiles with his mouth full of food, “We’ll see,” he says. He won’t tell Harry now but he’s been known to be pretty good at convincing people to do things they don’t necessarily want to - it’s what he’s planning to become a professional in, after all.

*

They both eat too much and the walk back across the bridge is much more sated and sleepy than the original trek. They don’t pause to look out over the water once and barely say more than a few words as they pass under the street lamps lining the edges.

“Any hotel in particular?” Louis asks as they get in the car, Harry behind the wheel.

Harry rubs his eye with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and shakes his head. “Somewhere close, I’m exhausted.”

“We went to like three-hundred tourist sites today,” Louis says like an explanation.

Harry isn’t too tired to roll his eyes at that. “It was like five but thank you for the dramatics.”

Louis’s hospitality search on Google Maps lands them at a Holiday Inn five minutes away and another room for under sixty dollars.

They take the elevator up to the second floor silently and then go about their business getting ready for bed without pause. Harry takes his bed apart the way he did at the Quality Inn and Louis follows suit - nervous he may be developing Harry’s same habit. Harry turns on the air conditioning but keeps it lower than he did the night before, thank god.

Harry showers first and then Louis rinses off quickly, sleep tugging too hard for him to linger under the warm water. Harry is already in bed when he comes out, his lamp turned off and eyes closed. Louis is quiet as he pulls on a pair of boxers and slides into his own cool sheets and flips off the lamp on his side table.

*

[DAY THREE](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/164960358284/day-three-six-flags-st-louis-missouri-x-x-x)

St. Louis, Missouri

 

Harry’s alarm shatters through Louis’s sleepy brain on the morning on Day 3 and has him shoving his head under his pillow in immediate protest. He doesn’t usually operate with morning alarms - much preferring to take later classes and wake up naturally. Harry, clearly, doesn’t agree.

By the time Louis resurfaces from his pillow cocoon, the alarm has been thankfully turned off and Harry is still in his bed, scrolling through his phone with sleepy eyes.

“Do we have to wake up this early every day?” Louis asks over a yawn, pulling the sheet over his shoulders and turning his back to Harry.

“It’s like eight,” Harry says. “That’s not very early.” Harry’s voice is ridiculously deep and scratchy for how early it is and Louis tries his best to pretend like he hasn’t noticed. “Besides, Six Flags is an hour away from here. I figured you wouldn’t want to waste any time.”

Louis grins as he flips around in the bed to face Harry. “That’s right,” he says. “It’s Six Flags day.” He won’t say he’d forgotten that fact overnight but he certainly hadn’t remembered it right after waking up. “Today’s the day you face all your fears, yeah?”

Harry actually snorts as he sits up. He stretches his hands over his head and his back curves with it. Louis looks away pointedly - he doesn’t need to stare at Harry’s long, lithe body this early in the morning. “We’ll see,” he says, echoing Louis’s words from last night.

They dress quietly, taking turns in the bathroom and then re-packing their bags quickly and efficiently. If nothing else, by the end of their road trip Louis will have a firm grip on how best to repack his bag and check for stray belongings beneath hotel beds in less than five minutes.

While the Holiday Inn is cheap, it definitely doesn’t include a complimentary breakfast in the lobby, though they both look around curiously before they leave. There is a pot of watery coffee they both drink quickly, Harry gagging every sip and Louis plugging his nose so he doesn’t taste it.

“I had no idea hotel coffee was such shit,” Harry says as they pile their bags in the back of the Jeep again.

“This is what we get for picking the cheapest hotels we come across,” Louis says though the complaint is light. He’s definitely not planning to start dropping extra money on hotels just for better coffee. “Lucky for us, I stole those cereal bars from the hotel yesterday.”

“Lucky us,” Harry says with an eye roll but he still takes the bar Louis offers - Cinnamon Toast Crunch - and devours it before they’re even on the road.

“This reminds me of being a kid,” Louis says. “Sugary cereal we all ate before we knew better.”

Harry smirks and glances over. “My sister and I didn’t get sugar cereal as kids,” he says.

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says seriously, his hand over his heart. He smiles when Harry glares at him.

“My mom would get us like, Cheerios, and then sprinkle something sugary on top. So we’d get a bowl of something bland and like, ten Lucky Charms mixed in.”

Louis holds up a hand, “Wait, Lucky Charms marshmallows or a mix of cereal and marshmallows?”

“A mix,” Harry says. “We’d have battles at the breakfast table if Gemma got more marshmallows than I did.”

“I can’t believe you were so deprived as a child,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Everything makes more sense now.”

Harry laughs lightly as they pause at a stoplight before turning on the highway. “Considering you probably ate sugar cereal seven mornings a week, I could say the same about you.”

“That it explains why I’m so sweet?” Louis bats his eyelashes and puts his foot up on the dashboard. “Harry, you flatter me.”

*

Louis puts on a James Bay playlist for the morning drive because it’s the only music he’s even slightly in the mood for at such an hour. He settles back into his seat and considers taking a cat nap for the hour drive until Harry is aggressively pulling off on an exit and sending Louis jolting to sit up straight in his seat.

“The fuck?” He says, tugging the seatbelt away from his neck where it’s suddenly pressing too hard in an effort to protect him from Harry’s violent driving tendencies.

“Sorry,” Harry says, not quite sounding it. “I saw a sign for Waffle House.”

“And?” Louis asks incredulously, not seeing the connection.

“I’ve been craving a waffle since yesterday at the syrup farm,” he says. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Definitely,” Louis says, readjusting in his seat and smiling at the prospect of a fluffy waffle with warm syrup - a hot cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like dirty water. “Unless,” he says with  narrowing eyes, “This is a ploy to distract me from getting you to Six Flags?”

Harry shakes his head, “What? Of course not. You know I’ve been waiting my whole life for Six Flags. I love roller coasters.” He smiles like he’s trying to sell Louis a bag of bullshit and then rolls his eyes.

“I’ll admit you’re doing a good job choosing food as a distraction,” Louis says. “But you can stop at every Waffle House between here and the park but we’re definitely still going.”

Harry’s smile slips from his face and he readjusts his hands on the wheel. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy,” he says. “But I really do want a waffle, so.”

Louis doesn’t fight him on it as they pull into the parking lot - he really wants a waffle too and the syrup farm from yesterday has only exacerbated the matter.

*

“Harry.”

“What?”

Louis sighs as they drive past three empty parking spots outside of Six Flags St. Louis. “You’re going to need to park somewhere.”

“I’m looking for the perfect spot,” he says without taking his eyes from the asphalt path in front of the car. Louis counts four more empty spots as Harry turns down the next row.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, I hope you know.”

Harry smiles, “Thanks.”

Louis rolls his eyes and groans. “Just park before you make me car sick. If you don’t want to go on a roller coaster, I won’t make you but, personally, I’d love to go on one before sunset.”

Harry shoots a glance at the clock in the dashboard and Louis does too - it’s only ten now but his point stands. Harry is wasting their precious time. As if he’s said it out loud, Harry turns the Jeep into a spot - probably the twentieth open one they’ve come across.

“Sorry,” Harry says. He clears his throat, “I’m nervous.”

Louis kind of feels bad that Harry is actually apologizing for being scared. “It’s fine,” Louis says. He opens the car door the same time as Harry and they climb out in sync, managing to shut the doors at the same time too.

Harry gets his camera out of the backseat and Louis is slowly growing more confident Harry’s feet will be staying firmly planted on the ground of the park. Not unless he fancies his chances of holding his expensive camera on a roller coaster boasting three loops in a row. (Louis may have looked up the park on the drive over - curious about what he had to look forward to.)

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Louis says as they start across the parking lot. The bottom line, as it always seems to be, is that Louis is an older brother as well as an instigator of going on adventures. The last thing he would do is put his sisters in a situation they don’t want to be in and he won’t do it to Harry either - not that he’s his little sister but, whatever. The point stands. He’ll poke and prod but never to the point of someone breaking, not intentionally at least.

Their day pass wristbands are slightly more expensive than the hotel room they stayed in the night before but Louis doesn’t complain - there are plenty of things he’ll spend money on without thinking and amusement parks are kind of high on that list.

Harry doesn’t seem as sure as he secures the wristband on his left wrist - or tries to but his hand keeps slipping. Louis rolls his eyes but stops to help him, clipping the two ends together easily and then sliding a finger underneath to make sure it’s not too tight. Harry’s skin is warm to the touch and Louis can hardly focus when he feels Harry’s pulse rabbiting against his fingertip when he checks for tightness. Louis pulls away feeling guilty, like he’s making all of Harry’s worst nightmares come true.

If he is, Harry doesn’t let it on. He leads Louis to the large map at the entrance of the park showing all of the different sections of the park with an index of the kinds of rides, height requirements and names. It’s a lot to take in and his eyes kind of blur over as Harry seems to study it intently. Louis waits for Harry to announce where they’re going to start since having a game plan in an amusement park seems right up his alley but when he looks over at Louis he looks just as lost as Louis does.

“I don’t know where to start,” he says. “I wasn’t exactly planning to come so I didn’t research the different areas and stuff.”

“Research?” Louis scratches his jaw and stares at Harry for a beat. “You don’t need to research this, okay? We’ll just walk around and if something seems fun, we do it.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ve been to an amusement park, Louis. I mean like I don’t know what the best stuff is - what we definitely need to see or do while we’re here.”

Of course. Harry doesn’t want to miss anything on the route and, _of course_ , that includes the rides within the amusement park. Louis kind of wants to flick Harry’s ear and tell him to focus on having fun. Waiting too long to do the best things usually means you miss out on the ones that are the most fun. Instead of doing any of that, Louis starts walking away.

“We’ll have to figure it out ourselves,” Louis says over his shoulder when Harry finally starts walking after him. He spins around and smiles, taking a couple steps backward. “For example, American Thunder,” he gestures at the sign they’re headed toward, “A wooden roller coaster going around the entire park. That sounds like a classic, yeah?”

Harry actually stops walking at that and Louis laughs as he turns forward and continues on his way. He may not have done research but he still knows how to have fun. The question, of course, will be if Harry can figure out how to join in.

*

Louis has nothing short of a wonderful time over the first couple of hours. He feels like he’s a kid all over again, getting off one ride to go to another - except he no longer has to worry about height and weight requirements and he isn’t responsible for dragging two little sisters with him while the rest go with his mom and dad.

He does, however, have Harry tagging along but that’s not so bad, it turns out. After the first five times of asking Harry if he wants to go on the rides with him only to be met with, “No thanks,” Louis just stops asking. Harry seems content with the turn of events as he wanders around the park taking pictures or sitting on the wooden benches scattered throughout to people watch. Louis would be bored out of his mind if the roles were reversed but that’s one of the stark differences between him and Harry - finding joy in something idle versus something active.

They pause to eat lunch at a little cafe boasting air conditioning and chicken fingers while Harry goes through the pictures on his camera and Louis goes through a map of the park for anything he might have missed.

“Are you having fun?” Louis mistakenly asks when their baskets of chicken fingers and fries arrive.

Harry raises his eyebrows and huffs out a brash laugh. “Chasing you around an amusement park for two hours? What do you think?”

Louis’s mouth goes dry over his first bite of lunch and he drops the chicken finger back in the basket. “You don’t have to chase me around,” Louis says, somewhat defensively. “You can do whatever you want which is what I thought you were doing anyway.” He motions at Harry’s camera like an explanation.

“There are only so many pictures you can take in a place like this,” Harry says. “Nothing is particularly exciting in a manufactured place for eight year olds.”

Louis rolls his eyes and picks up his chicken. “I resent that comment,” he says. “I happen to be having a lot of fun. Maybe you would too if you actually went on a ride.”

“I don’t want to go on the rides you go on,” Harry says and Louis would go so far to say he sounds a bit petulant about it.

“Go on other rides, then,” Louis says, flicking his hand at the map between their baskets. He bites a fry in half and chews quickly. “There’s got to be something you want to do on here.”

“I don’t want to go by myself,” Harry says. “I don’t know anyone.”

Louis tries to contain his reaction but his eyes bulge anyway. “What do you think I’ve been doing? I don’t know all these people, H. I’m clearly going alone.”

“Yeah but you’re like-” Harry waves his hand around and he’s lost Louis.

“What the fuck is that?” Louis mimics the motion again.

Harry gnaws off a piece of his chicken and chews quietly. Louis is trying not to be frustrated but Harry’s acting a bit like a wet blanket and the way he motioned just now seems mildly offensive even if Louis is not exactly sure what he meant by it.

“I mean,” Harry starts as though Louis has spoken out loud, “That talking to people you don’t know is easy for you.”

“What?” Louis doesn’t think he’s talked to a single person about anything more than how they’re both excited for the ride they’re standing in line for.

Harry seems to be getting frustrated too, sighing and twisting the strap on his camera. “I’ve watched you in line. At every ride you talk to people even though you may not know them. I’m not like that.”

Louis almost laughs. Harry is charming - to a fault. Anytime he talks to waiters or waitresses or the concierge at the hotel, he’s flattering and funny to the point where they seem to dance right into his palm like he could ask them for anything. Why he doesn’t think that applies to random strangers at Six Flags, Louis isn’t sure.

“It’s not as easy for me,” Harry says, answering Louis’s unspoken thoughts again. “To just start a conversation if I don’t know someone wants to talk to me. So going on a ride alone wouldn’t be very fun.”

Louis isn’t sure what to say. He starts conversations all the time with people who probably don’t want to talk to him but the thought doesn’t really cross his mind when he does. It’s been that way his entire life - he’s just a friendly person or something. Harry makes it sound like he’s confident about it or enjoys talking to strangers when the reality is that his mouth sometimes precedes his thoughts and talking happens to be an oddly passive activity he doesn’t really think through.

Under that, there’s also the thought that Harry has been watching him the last couple of hours, admiring the way he makes friends in long lines - he can’t process that right now, though. He has other things to focus on. Namely, Harry staring at his lunch like it’s disappointing him.

“What rides do you want to go on?” Louis cuts to the chase without even beginning to unpack what is clearly a lingering insecurity for Harry. “Pick some and I’ll go with you.” He picks up a fry and gestures at the map, “I’ll go on anything not intended for kids. So, no to Bugs Bunny Land,” he says, pointing at the pink outline area in the corner of the map.

Harry actually kind of smiles before it withers. “I don’t need you to pity me,” he says.

“I’m not,” Louis says and it _is_ partially true. “I may find it easier to talk to strangers but it doesn’t mean I always want to. I didn’t realize you had any interest in going on rides, H.” Louis hopes he doesn’t sound like a total prat when he says, “I’d much rather go on rides with a friend than by myself.” He’s not sure they’re entirely friends after two and a half days on the road but Louis knows Harry the best out of anyone in the entire park, in the entire state of Missouri, probably. That must count for something.

Harry swirls a piece of chicken in his container of honey mustard dipping sauce and takes a bite. “If you still want to go on roller coasters, you can,” he says. “But if you want to go on some of the other stuff, I’ll go with you.”

Louis feels like they’ve both just walked down off a slippery ledge of almost getting into a fight in the middle of Six Flags of all places. There’s just something about the two of them that seem to send them both in a tailspin one way or another. Maybe they’re too stubborn; maybe they’re both a bit insufferable.

Louis smiles and takes a drink from the bottle of water he bought for an exorbitant amount of money with his lunch. “Deal,” he says quietly, glancing down at the map.

Harry is already running his finger down the list of rides slowly, his bottom lip drawn between his top teeth as he concentrates.

*

Outside of the cafe it feels like a new day - the smell of sunscreen lingering in the air twisting with the smell of chlorine from the water rides. Louis detects a twirling hint of fresh cotton candy but doesn’t let himself indulge. The last thing he needs is to be the one to puke on the first ride Harry goes on.

They’ve just decided to go on the Go Karts first when Harry suddenly says, “Shit, wait,” and walks away quickly. Louis doesn’t even get a chance to call after him before Harry starts semi-jogging and disappears into a throng of children and adults in matching orange t-shirts. They look like they’ve all been all let out of prison with the fashion choices.

He stands around for a moment before going to the nearest, empty wooden bench and sitting down. He looks in the direction of where Harry has disappeared and sees a large Visitor Information/Restroom sign curving overhead. Louis winces in sympathy for Harry - maybe lunch was too much for him or maybe the nerves of Louis shoving him on a roller coaster was too much to take and he had to retreat to the nearest bathroom.

Louis watches a couple across the park from him, maybe a little older than he and Harry, holding hands and eating off of the same fluffy cloud of cotton candy. It must be the same one that Louis had smelled earlier though he’s more entranced by the way they eat it, sharing sugary kisses between each airy bite.

It’s a little romantic and a little gross, actually. He vaguely wishes for someone to share cotton candy before he thinks about how sticky their mouths must be - their colored tongues and teeth. The couple must realize it at the same time he does, as they both start giggling and pointing at each other, their laughter making Louis smile from his perch three hundred feet away. That - he thinks - is what he wants. Not the cotton candy but the mindless laughter, the belly aches from making fun of each other but never in a cruel way.

He drags his eyes away when he sees Harry coming back toward him, looking no worse for wear as he gives Louis a thumbs up with a small grin.

“Okay?” Louis asks, standing up. Maybe Harry feels better now or maybe he’s only gotten a brief reprieve from his stomach to come tell Louis they need to leave immediately.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile. “Ready?”

Louis nods and then he pauses. “Wait, where’s your camera? Did you leave it in the bathroom?” His eyes go wide as he thinks of Harry’s precious camera in an amusement park bathroom with hundreds of people milling around. He’s not sure how that situation ends well.

“What?” Harry tilts his head, “I wasn’t in the bathroom?”

“What?” Louis echoes back to him.

“I rented a locker to put my camera in,” Harry says slowly, holding up his wrist and the bright orange key that has been tied to his entry wristband. “I didn’t want to take it on the rides.”

Louis tries to stop himself but then a huff of laughter slips out of his mouth followed quickly by another.

“Is that funny?” Harry asks, clearly confused.

“I thought you ran away because you were having like, explosive diarrhea,” Louis laughs loudly now, his eyes nearly closing from it.

Harry’s cheeks go pink and his mouth opens in slight offense. “Uh, no, I was not but I’m glad you are so concerned about my digestive health.”

Louis tries to catch his breath, a smile still pulling at his lips despite his minimal (at best) efforts to get it together. “Sorry,” he says, nose scrunching. “Was that TMI?” He hasn’t been around many people who embarrass easily at potty humor but he knows they exist out there somewhere.

Harry levels his chin and licks his bottom lip. “When I was sixteen, I went to Argentina with my dad and got such bad food poisoning I was shitting and puking at the same time.” He smiles pleasantly, “TMI?”

Louis shakes his head, “Yes, actually,” he says. He walks away forcefully and then ends up laughing when Harry catches up with him, partly at the shit-eating grin crawling all over Harry’s mouth.

*

They start easy with Go Karts, which Harry is scarily good at and then graduate to a swinging pirate ships that sends their stomachs into their throats so they can’t stop laughing. There’s the classic Scrambler where they sit pressed together in one cart that flies through the traffic of the other carts and makes it feel like they’re going to crash at any moment.

“This is how I feel when you’re driving,” Louis says as the ride slows and Harry flicks his ear - something he must have unknowingly learned from Niall.

They play rock-paper-scissors to decide who has to ride the antique carousel. Harry loses and Louis laughs about it for the entire time he watches Harry spins around on a black horse to ballet music with all of the other children under the age of eight. He takes a few pictures on his phone when he thinks about it and though they aren’t as high quality as Harry’s, he still thinks they’re priceless.

They ride on a free falling elevator thing that neither of them particularly enjoys though Louis ends up being the one screaming for the entirety of the ride making Harry claim he’s gone deaf. There’s a log ride with a 100-foot drop that they go on, getting drenched in the process and drying quickly in the afternoon sun.

“What’s the difference between that and a roller-coaster?” Louis asks once they’re off, pulling their slick t-shirts away from their skin and squeezing out excess water.

“It doesn’t go upside down,” Harry says. He runs his fingers back through his hair repeatedly and it only serves to make his hair look akin to a mad scientist - pointing in every direction.

“Not all roller coasters go upside down,” Louis says.

Harry sighs. “I know. But they’re fast and that freaks me out.”

“They couldn’t be faster than the free-fall tower drop we did,” Louis points out.

“I didn’t like that,” Harry reminds him and Louis nods because, yeah, neither did he.

“What is it about roller coasters? Besides going upside down. Did something happen?”

Harry shakes his head, “No. Just the idea like, freaks me out.”

Louis stops walking and Harry matches his motion. “Will you go on one roller coaster with me? One that doesn’t go upside down?”

Harry swallows and starts twisting the rings around on his fingers. Louis hasn’t asked him in a few hours about going on one - he doesn’t mean to make Harry so on edge about it.

“If I can look at it before we get on,” Harry says reluctantly.

Louis is surprised by his answer and he’s sure it reads all over his face. “Wait, really?”

“One,” Harry says, holding his finger up. “Only one.”

Louis smiles and nods once before starting to walk again. “We’ll go on the first one I went on when we got here, American Thunder,” he says confidently. “There are only a couple drops and it’s supposed to be more scenic than scary. It doesn’t even go that quickly.”

Harry nods once and then twice, his jaw tight. “You swear it doesn’t go upside down?”

Louis laughs and glances at him. “H, I know it freaks you out, I get it. But I would never trick you into something like that. Swear it.”

“Okay,” Harry says quietly and Louis feels a swing of desperate hopes that no one has ever tricked Harry into doing something he didn’t want to do.

They arrive at the base of American Thunder and Harry walks the edges carefully, going up on his toes to see the parts not in clear view from his eye level.

“It goes all the way around the park,” Louis points out the track where it looks like it disappears and tangles with other rides. “Takes probably five minutes total to do.”

Harry takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The line isn’t too long of a wait but Louis is still conscious of Harry fidgeting and he keeps waiting for the moment he runs away from the line altogether, maybe out of the park outright. He tries to distract him by asking about the itinerary for tomorrow and where they’ll be on Day 12 just to really make him think but that doesn’t really seem to calm him at all.

“Where do you want to sit?” Louis asks once they’re up on the platform, the empty roller coaster car waiting.

“With you,” Harry says incredulously like Louis is about to abandon him.

Louis laughs lightly. “I know that and, as flattering as that is, I meant what car?”

Harry’s face turns a pretty pink as he goes right for the middle car and Louis follows, shaking his head. If they make it off the ride in one piece, he’ll be thankful.

Once they’re seat belted in and the safety harness comes down, Harry starts sweating and tugging on everything to make sure it’s secure. Louis doesn’t comment, sure that Harry is about to puke if he makes fun of him right now.

“H,” Louis says, “I went on this one earlier, yeah? It’s super chill.”

That doesn’t seem to help Harry as he holds up sweat slick palms. “Super chill,” he mimics.

The ride jolts forward and Harry scrambles to hold onto the bars over his chest as Louis stifles a laugh in the other direction. He can’t believe he’s got Harry on the roller coaster and he can’t believe how ridiculous Harry is being about it.

The steep incline at the beginning isn’t Louis’s favorite part and it doesn’t seem to be Harry’s either, his feet tapping incessantly on the floor of the car, knuckles white and eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re fine,” Louis says, just loud enough for Harry to hear. “Open your eyes so you can see the view.”

Harry complies and looks around quickly, his jaw still clenched tight. They’re almost halfway up the incline and they can see most of the park - dots and scribbles of color like an art piece.

“Is the first drop right after this?” Harry asks tersely.

Louis has been on the ride once, four hours ago, but racks his memory for the layout. “There’s a small one,” he says quickly. “You’ll see the biggest one before we get to it.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry chants as they finish the climb and Louis laughs.

“Family attraction, Harry,” he chastises and it gets a small smile out of Harry, a dimple curving into his cheek as they crest the hill.

There’s no time to talk after that but Louis feels Harry’s presence, his low guttural scream as they twist through the quicker parts and dive into the drops. Louis chances a glance at Harry somewhere toward the middle and is pleased to see he’s smiling, in between yelling, “Oh fuck,” over and over.

The ride finishes quicker than it seemed to begin and Louis feels the lingering adrenaline in his fingers and toes as Harry gasps for air beside him. Louis remembers his comment about his inhaler with startling clarity as he glances over at Harry. “Good?” He asks.

Harry grins and nods, his hair all sorts of windblown and cheeks red. “Good.”

“Congratulations,” Louis says once they’re back on solid ground outside of the ride. He loves the way his legs feel a little like jelly after roller coasters, the adrenaline finally starting to rest. “How was it?”

“I want to do a loop one,” Harry says determinedly, passing up on a summary of the ride they were just on.

Louis blinks into the silence between them. “Sorry, what?”

Harry swallows and nods, his eyes looking somewhere over Louis’s head. “I want to do that one.”

He’s pointing at the lone black roller coaster in the park, three loops in a row and Spiderman painted on the sign near the entrance.

“Hold on here, Superman,” Louis says, “It took me all day to get you go on fucking American Thunder and now you want to go on some sort of triple loop shit?”

Harry nods, finally meeting Louis’s eyes. “I do, yeah. I’ve built it up in my mind for so long that I almost spent all of today sitting on a bench while you had fun.” He shakes his head, “I’m over it.”

Louis doesn’t think it works that easily but he isn’t going to stop Harry’s momentum. “Alright, let’s go,” he says. They start walking toward the black monster coaster and all Louis can see is Harry shaking on the climb of American Thunder - how visibly he’d worn that fear. He’s not sure what’s going to happen when Harry is strapped into one that is actually his biggest fear materialized into a real thing.

*

What happens is worse than American Thunder. Harry fidgets in line and Louis offers twice for him to back out but Harry shakes his head, his jaw flexing. For the first time Louis can actually _see_ that Harry is someone’s little brother in his fierce determination and the way he won’t back down.

They sit in a center car again, a small lip separating their hips from pressing together as they pull on the harnesses and safety bars. There are twice as many safety precautions as American Thunder had and if Harry notices, he doesn’t comment. Louis definitely notices and it makes him slightly nervous - for Harry and for himself. He loves the adrenaline of roller coasters but he never claimed to be fearless in the face of the scarier ones.

There are two different attendants who check to make sure they’re securely in their seats and that, more than anything else, seems to get to Harry as his knees start jumping and his breathing goes heavier. Louis takes a deep breath, a bit worried Harry’s fear is contagious as the light turns green and the roller coaster takes off from its parking spot.

Like the other roller coaster, this starts with a climb but twice as high as last time. Halfway up, they can see the entire ride and the first drop, the three loops as well. Louis hears Harry’s choked inhale as they both see the same thing - three more loops on the other side too.

“Louis,” he says, voice barely carrying over the thunder of the tracks beneath them. “Louis,” he says again.

“What?” Louis calls back, trying to keep his voice from floating away in the wind.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Harry says.

Louis’s stomach drops for him - he knows there’s not a thing he can do about it, the impending drop of the ride lingering just ahead. “You’re going to be fine,” Louis says, knowing the words are of little comfort.

“This was a stupid idea,” Harry says and Louis swears his voice cracks in the middle.

It hits Louis in the chest and he doesn’t know what to do to fix it. So he does the one thing he’s done for every scared sibling he’s had, every worried friend and sick cousin. He reaches his hand across the small gap between them and holds it out, waits for Harry to grab back. He twists their fingers together and squeezes as they reach the apex of the ride. It’s not much, it’s barely anything - but it’s all they’ve got.

*

Louis’s hand is broken. Or, at the very least, some bones have been rearranged. That doesn’t stop Harry from squeezing it again as the ride comes to a close, the coaster sailing slowly back to where it began. This time there is no lingering smile on Harry’s face and his skin is pale instead of windblown. He only lets go of Louis’s hand when he has to use it to take off the safety belt and even then his grip leaves a lingering impression.

They stay quiet as they walk on the exit ramp to the outside area. Louis’s heart is still racing from the ride, his feet tingling the way they do after the most intense of roller coasters. He’s not sure it was the best choice for Harry’s second one ever. Before Louis can ask him anything, Harry reaches down for his crotch and pats twice. Louis raises a questioning eyebrow and Harry almost smiles.

“Felt like I peed my pants,” he says.

Louis laughs at that and Harry joins though his laughter is much shakier and stops sooner. “No pee,” Louis says, “And you survived.”

“Barely,” Harry says, shaking his head. “I think I blacked out at least twice, felt my spirit leave my body a couple times.”

Louis shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure you did. But, hey, you did it once and you never have to do it again, probably.”

“Yeah, no,” Harry says, “I’m never volunteering myself for that kind of torture again.”

Louis grins. “Do you want to go to Bugs Bunny land to calm down?”

Harry’s snark returns in the form of a middle finger directed at Louis and a slight laugh. “No but I do want some of the cotton candy.”

“I think you deserve that,” Louis says with another smile. He starts walking away but Harry stops him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, “Give me a minute to get the feeling back in my legs.”

“You’re so stupid,” Louis says, no venom in his words only laughter twisting through them like lace.

“I agree,” Harry says. “I totally agree.” He takes a hesitant step and then a deep breath. “You’re going to have to drive to the hotel tonight,” he says. “My legs feel like rubber and my balls have climbed up inside my body in fear.”

Louis covers his face and only slightly muffles his laughter as they slowly make their way toward the cotton candy. They don’t talk about how Harry held Louis’s hand like a death grip or the way that Louis thinks he might have liked it. They definitely don’t talk about the twisted feeling Louis feels deep in his stomach as they walk - one that feels suspiciously like pride, like he might be proud of Harry for facing his fears, for trusting Louis to be the one to be with him for it. No, they definitely don’t talk about that.

*

They barely make it twenty minutes down the road after Six Flags before they go through the Taco Bell drive-thru and get a cheap room at the hotel in the same parking lot.

They eat far too much cheap Mexican food while watching reruns of Real Housewives: Orange County. The exhaustion seems to seep between them as they silently fold down their bed covers and get under the cool sheets. Harry starts to say something but falls asleep in the middle of it. Louis is too tired to even laugh at him and falls asleep holding the wrapper of his bean burrito in his fist, the blue light of the television dancing over both of them.

*


	3. Day 4, 5, 6

[ **DAY FOUR** ](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165032635294/day-four-meramec-caverns-near-stanton-missouri)

St. Louis, Missouri

 

For once, they wake up in a hotel offering complimentary breakfast and stumble down to the lobby with their packed bags just after eight in the morning. Someday, Louis is going to get Harry to actually sleep in even if he has to bribe him into it. He’ll offer sugary cereal if he has to.

Motel 8 doesn’t offer a ton of breakfast options but they both make-do with toasted bagels and cream cheese. The coffee isn’t terrible for once and Louis eats fruit for the first time on the trip, munching on a banana while Harry goes about the much trickier task of eating a kiwi.

“What’s on the schedule today?” Louis asks over a sip of coffee.

“The Meramec Caverns,” Harry says without pause.

“And what fun thing are we going to do there?” Louis smirks as he says it and Harry rolls his eyes. It’s become a thing now - their playful teasing. Sometimes they edge on the side of too aggressive but they’re learning how to read each other.

“A couple of fun things actually,” Harry says. He squishes some kiwi between his teeth and runs his hand over his mouth. “There’s a zip line and a canoe trip on the river. Does that sound okay with you, your highness?”

Louis smiles, “It does, actually.” He glances down at his black skinny jeans and then back at Harry who has gone for athletic shorts and tennis shoes. “When exactly were you planning to tell me I was overdressed?”

Harry shrugs, “I wasn’t. Maybe you enjoy zip lining in skinnies.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no. Not so much.” He takes the room key from the edge of their table and lugs his bag back up the stairs to change into a more appropriate outfit.

*

The drive is forty minutes of winding through wooded back roads with the windows down and Frank Ocean playing through the stereo. Louis taps his fingers along the edge of the Jeep and smiles subtly as the sun peeks through the thick trees overhead. Happiness settles in his stomach as Harry hums along to ‘Ivy’ with only one hand on the wheel. It took them a few days to figure it out but Louis thinks they might actually be getting along without trying. At least until Harry tries to skip ‘Thinkin’ Bout You’ and Louis has to slap his hand away from the stereo controls.

“This one is overplayed,” he grumbles as the first bars come over the speakers. Louis turns it up louder and ignores him. By the first chorus Harry is singing right along with the words so Louis is pretty sure he’s won the argument.   _Do you not think so far ahead? ‘Cause I’ve been thinking about forever._

*

One perk of Harry’s early rising tendencies is the parking lot at the caverns isn’t even half-filled when they arrive and the cool air of the morning hasn’t quite burned off either. They decide to start with the zip line and book their canoe trip for ten managing to snag the last two spots on the boat.

The zip line goes over for one-thousand feet above the trees and then over the Meramec River and sends endless butterflies up through Louis’s stomach as he slides down it, a silly grin on his face for the entire ride. Harry comes behind him with a gleeful yell at every curve in the line and a matching smile at the bottom.

“Not as bad as the Spiderman roller coaster?” Louis teases as they take off their helmets and harnesses at the bottom.

“I’m a new man after that,” Harry says proudly. “I’m like, invincible now.”

Louis can’t help his laughter as he adjusts his aviators. “Why’s that?”

Harry tangles his ridiculous legs in the harness and huffs as he plops on the ground to twist out of it properly. “I evaded death,” he says when he stands back up. “It changes you.”

Louis can’t even respond as they leave the zip line platform. Harry is absolutely ridiculous and Louis isn’t going to burst his bubble.

*

They buy bottles of water before boarding the shuttle up to the canoe launch spot with twelve other people - mostly families with a couple older couples scattered around. The shuttle takes them up higher to the top of the river and drops them off to get life jackets with the canoe tied to the dock in the background.

Louis wears red shorts and puts his t-shirt in his backpack in hopes of an even tan. He finds a snapback he twists backwards smirking when he notices Harry is in an identical outfit with a black snapback. Louis notices a lot of odd smiles thrown at him and Harry as they all put on their life jackets before getting on the boat. Perhaps it’s the fact they have more tattoos between them than the rest of their group. Maybe because they’re both a bit incompetent when it comes to life jackets and have to end up helping each other strap in. Or maybe because they start bickering when Harry buckles Louis’s jacket too tight and then Louis accidentally pinches the skin on the bottom of Harry’s chin with one of the straps and can barely apologize over his laughter.

“Very cute,” one lady says fondly once they’ve got the life jacket situation under control.

Harry thanks her with a smile and then looks to Louis. “What’s cute?”

“No idea,” Louis says, watching as the woman goes to her husband and gestures at the two of them. “Maybe she has a crush on you.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Oh boy.” Louis sees him trying to hide his smile.

The canoe ride is peaceful as it can be with twelve other strangers. The boat slices through the water as the sun positions itself high overhead, the trees all leaning forward from their banks like they’re trying to touch the canoes. It’s mostly quiet in the back of the canoe where they find themselves except for the shutter of Harry’s camera every once in awhile or a quiet, “Lou,” when he tries to point out something he spots on the banks.

There aren’t many wild animals around but there are a fleet of goats who call to them as they pass and a few fish who ride along with the swell of the water under the boat before dashing off eventually. Louis feels the sun burning his nose and shoulders and makes a mental note to get sunscreen but doesn’t think about much else. They’ve found a hidden oasis in the middle of Missouri and for once he’s thankful for Harry’s incessant research and itinerary keeping.

*

They’re both a bit cranky and hungry by the time they get to Cuba - though Harry manages to make a few jokes about how he didn’t realize they’d left the United States. Louis stares at him blankly and that ends his stand-up comedy routine quickly.

There’s a family winery on the edge of town Harry had written in his journal and so they spend lunch outside on the patio, drinking dry wine since that happens to be Missouri’s specialty. They both order sandwiches to go with the complimentary cheese and crackers as they look out over the endless valley of vines, the leaves on the edge of turning from green to brown wherever they look.

“What else do they have in fake Cuba?” Louis asks once he starts eating and finds his mood magically restored.

Harry pauses with his wine glass halfway to his lips. “Wait, is this not real Cuba?” He laughs at his own joke before Louis can. “It’s sometimes called ‘Mural City’ because all of the street murals. If you go in the right order, they’re supposed to tell the story of how this Cuba was founded.”

Louis shakes his head, “I had no idea I was signing up for an art history expedition. Or that Niall signed me up for an art history expedition”

Harry nods as he swallows his sip of wine. “Yeah, well, I had no idea I’d have company.”

“Understatement,” Louis says drily. “So you love this stuff, yeah? Artsy things?”

Harry nods and holds up a finger as Louis has just caught him after taking a massive bite of his sandwich. “I do, yeah,” he says once he swallows.

“And you want to work in an art museum after school?” It’s an easy guess considering Niall met Harry at a museum internship. Louis is surprised when Harry shrugs.

“Not really. I’d love to work in a gallery, maybe become a curator.”

Louis pulls the tomato out of his sandwich as he nods along. “Yeah?”

Harry refills his glass of wine from the bottle they bought for the table. “I think I told you that I don’t really care about the finished piece?”

Louis shakes his head, mouth occupied with his sandwich. “You said you like the stories behind the art.” Louis remembers that from one of their first civil conversations on the first day.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “I care about why the artist made the piece and how it got to where it is but like, technique? I couldn’t care less. Even in a gallery, I’d want to work on showcasing stories instead of brush strokes if that makes sense. Spotlight tortured artists and ordinary people who were driven to create something.”

His eyes are almost sparkling as he speaks and Louis is nearly jealous. He loves law and can’t imagine going into anything else but he doesn’t burn for it the way Harry so clearly feels about art.  “Okay.” Louis wipes his hands on a napkin and reaches for his wine glass. “What’s your dream then? If you could do anything with art?”

“Open my own gallery,” Harry says without hesitation. “It would be amazing to share the art that I love the most, the stories that are my favorite all in one room together.”

“But?” Louis asks because he knows all dreams are followed with a modifier.

“You have to be massively rich to open a gallery,” Harry says. He tops Louis’s glass off with the rest of the bottle. “And I don’t know if that’s in my future.”

Louis smirks, “Shall we buy lottery tickets on our way out of town? Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

Harry snorts and shakes his head. “If I can do something I love without being massively rich, I’ll still be happy.”

“You could marry rich,” Louis says, pursing his lips, and not giving up easily.

Harry tilts his head back and forth, swirling his glass of wine. “Could do.” He looks up to meet Louis’s eyes, “You got any rich friends?” This time Louis laughs at Harry’s joke first.

*

They work off their slight buzz from the wine by wandering around Cuba and following the murals in, what Harry’s says, is the correct order. They start at the Civil War and work up through Amelia Earhart and World War II, each mural more vivid than the last but in a different and more compelling way than the life-like murals at the sign museum in Illinois.

“It’s the people,” Harry says when Louis mentions it.

They’re in front of a wall depicting a battle and retreating troops, fire burning up behind the horses as the soldiers shade their faces from the heat Louis can almost feel from the way it has been painted.

“The other ones were stationary places but these are actual humans.” Harry touches the wall, his hand small compared to the faces depicted. “You can read their emotions and then feel it in a visceral way instead of passive.”

Louis’s lips twitch before he gives into a smile. “I feel like I’m in an art history lecture.”

Harry blushes as he takes a photo of the mural with his camera. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Don’t be,” Louis says, watching[ Harry take the picture](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165033638424/day-four-cuba-murals-and-town-cuba-missouri-x-x) and then check it through the screen on the back. “You aren’t supposed to apologize for the things you love.”

Harry snorts and starts to go toward the next mural. Louis follows. “Louis, tell me, have you ever found that to be actually true?”

Louis nearly misses a step at the question. It’s easy to lie and just say that he has but there are memories swatting him upside the stomach at Harry’s words. The strongest one is of him being sixteen and coming out to his grandparents, the way a quick, “Sorry,” slipped out after he said, “I’m gay.” His throat tickles at the memory, the shame, and if Harry notices, he doesn’t say. There’s no way he could know - could read Louis’s thoughts swirling angrily through his brain.  Louis shakes it off.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for the things you love,” he amends, voice tighter than he intends.

Harry smiles, oblivious. “I agree.”

They come across a multi-colored building with the roof made of colored tiles and they both stop and stare, Harry’s camera clicking away.

“It looks like something from Candyland,” Louis comments, taking a picture with his phone too.

“All of it does,” Harry says, spinning around slowly.

Louis follows his gaze and realizes they’ve entered an entire street of colored buildings and brightly colored cars - the way actual Cuba looks in the movies. They pass through that to a gas station covered in antique signs and then they’re standing in front of the world’s largest rocking chair according to a giant sign sitting next to it. It’s painted in electric red and looming over all of the other buildings.

“Oh my god,” Louis says as they stare up at it. “I can’t believe you tricked me into seeing another giant monument. This is worse than the ketchup.”

Harry laughs and adjusts his sunglasses. “I promise you, I didn’t know that was here.”

Louis gives him a doubtful look. “Yeah, sure.” He holds out his hands, “Give me the camera so you can get a picture in front of the giant chair.”

Harry keeps laughing and shakes his head, “I don’t want a picture of me and the chair.”

“Yeah, you do.” Louis takes the camera from Harry’s hands himself and nudges Harry forward. “Go on. Another gaudy monument you’ve been dreaming of seeing.”

The picture is ridiculous and Harry is smiling so hard his eyes are shut but Louis makes him swear he won’t delete it.

“I mean it,” he says when Harry promises begrudgingly. “One day I’ll start a blog called Harry and Giant Things and this will be the front page.”

“You’re terrible,” Harry says, shaking his head, laughter still bubbling from him every couple of seconds.  “You don’t want a chair picture?”

“Definitely not,” Louis says as they start walking away.

It’s quiet for a moment and when Louis looks over his shoulder, it’s just in time to see Harry lifting the camera and taking a picture of him. “I’ll start a secondary blog called ‘Louis in Places He Hates’ and this will be the first photo,” Harry says, turning the camera so Louis can see the shot.

Louis actually laughs as he looks at the picture, the bright colored building behind him, the way his mouth is halfway open like he was about to say something. “Good,” he says as Harry takes the camera back. “I’ve always wanted to be a social media star.”

*

Their afternoon is a four hour drive across Missouri with a lot of dried up fields sprinkled between greener trees. They pass the time with music at first and then they play I Spy which is increasingly difficult as the land gets more barren. Harry suggests the license plate game but that falls flat as well because, “Everyone is fucking from Missouri,” Louis grumbles. Eventually he falls asleep in the passenger seat and lets Harry pass the time on his own. It’s not an intentional nap but the road is smooth and the sun is warm - it’s all but inevitable.

Louis wakes up when they’re in Springfield and he actually rubs his eyes to make sure the skyscrapers and two yellow cabs out the window aren’t a mirage. “Oh my god, a city,” he says with his face pressed to the window.

Harry chuckles lowly as he curves through the back streets. “First one since Chicago, I think.”

“I’ve never been so happy to not see a corn field in my life,” Louis says as passionately as he can manage with a hand over his heart.

Harry has sunglasses on but Louis is pretty sure he rolls his eyes. “We haven’t seen a cornfield since we left Illinois, Lou.”

Louis doesn’t really have a response for that. “Are we stopping?” He asks as they pass through two green lights and the city starts looking sparse on either side of him. He’s not sure Springfield, Missouri is an actual metropolitan mecca to begin with.

Harry shakes his head, “Uh, no.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” Harry licks his bottom lip, “I grew up in Chicago, I go to school in LA. I know city life.”

Louis groans, “That doesn’t make it a crime.” He falls back against the seat and scowls. “I can’t believe you’re going to punish me with more corn fields.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise over the edge of his sunglasses. “Soy beans are actually the top growing crop in Missouri.”

“Fascinating,” Louis deadpans. “If you take me on a soybean plant tour, I swear to god I will hitch hike the rest of the way.”

Harry’s laughter is even louder in the silence as the song on the stereo ends and the next begins quietly. “I wouldn’t be able to tell you what a soybean plant looked like if it hit me in the face.”

*

“I have something to tell you,” Harry says once the city fades completely and open fields overtake the sides of the road again.

“Okay,” Louis says slowly, unsure what is going to happen next.

“We’re not staying in a hotel tonight,” he says quickly.

“Okay,” Louis says, processing. He’s actually surprised they’ve stayed in hotels each night thus far - he’d half thought they’d be driving non-stop through the mid-west in pursuit of the Pacific Ocean so he’s definitely not complaining about the comfortable beds they’ve gotten each night.

“That’s okay?” Harry sounds unsure, like Louis is a loose cannon bound to shoot off at any moment.

“Sure, H.” Louis stretches his legs in the cramped front seat and pulls on the hem of his shorts. “I’m just along for the ride.”

Harry snorts and then laughs and Louis smirks. He may be a little more vocal than “along for the ride” would suggest.

“We do get to sleep tonight, right?” Louis asks. He’s not exactly a pleasure to be around when he’s running on little to no sleep.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Harry clears his throat, “We’re going to Carthage where there’s a historic drive in movie theater.”

“Sick,” Louis says, meaning it.

Harry nods, “Yeah. But for like, an extra fee, you can just camp in your car in the lot overnight. The fee was twenty bucks when I checked which saves us some money from getting a hotel room.” He trails off like he’s run out of the things to say.

“We’re sleeping in the Jeep, then?” Louis casts a weary glance back toward the piles of stuff in the back of the car.

“I have a plan,” Harry says as the Google Maps lady leads him to take an exit off the highway.

“Of course you do,” Louis says with his voice on the edge of teasing.

“I packed blankets and pillows because I was planning on this,” Harry says. “So we can pile all of our bags in the backseat and sleep in the trunk. It’s wider and flatter than making the front seats go back.” He finishes and looks over at Louis expectantly, either gunning for an argument or waiting for approval.

Louis shrugs, “Sounds good to me.” He twists his neck to check the back area again. It’s going to be a tight squeeze. “What movies are playing anyway?”

“I don’t exactly know,” Harry says, slowing the car and steering toward a white billboard propped on hay bales that says ‘66 Drive-In Theatre’ in bold red lettering.

They’re one of the earlier cars to arrive at the drive-in so Harry gets a spot in the second row, turning the Jeep around so they’ll be able to sit in the back and see the show when they let the hatch up. There’s a sign with the movie schedule just under the screen and they both have to squint to see it.

“Does that say Notting Hill?” Louis asks when they get out, taking a couple steps closer to get his eyes to focus.

“And DieHard,” Harry says.

“That’s quite the combination,” Louis says as he tries to remember the plot of Notting Hill. He’s pretty sure he’s watched it with his mom a handful of times.

“Notting Hill is one of my favorite movies ever,” Harry says confidently as he turns to head toward the back of the car.

“Well, yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker,” Louis says, grinning.

Harry stops and abruptly turns around. “Excuse me?”

Louis feels himself blush under Harry’s offended gaze. “It’s a line from Die Hard.”

Harry still looks slightly offended even as he nods in understanding. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Clearly,” Louis mutters, following him to the back of the car to rearrange their belongings.

They move all of their bags to the backseat like Harry had planned while the sun is just starting to sink in the sky - the light is definitely helpful in making sure they don’t forget anything on the grass while they repack.

True to his word, there are a few pillows and a pile of blankets Harry had packed underneath all of his bags. They lay one blanket out over the back area once it’s clear and then line the pillows up along the back of the seat to lean on. There’s a line of concession stands where they get street tacos and then they take their shoes off and climb in the back of the Jeep - the makeshift cocoon they’ve created.

It takes some slight rearranging so they can actually see the top and bottom of the screen at the same time and they end up with their legs pressed together from thighs to ankles in order to make it work. With an hour before the movie begins, they mostly people watch and point out people who seem to have trouble parking their car in a straight fashion.

The sun sets and brings a more relaxing chill over the crowd and Harry unrolls a blanket to put over their calves and feet just as the opening titles for the first movie begin.

Louis thinks it’s funny, the quick way he’s gotten to know Harry just by being forced together in a car. It’s only been four days but, here they are, three states from home, pressed together in the back of a Jeep and watching a romantic comedy like they’ve known each other for so much longer. Louis doesn’t feel like he’s sitting with a stranger and he doesn’t get mad when Harry rearranges his deer legs and accidentally kicks him. He just kicks him right back and they both laugh quietly before settling again. Maybe it should be a little scary and overwhelming too.

*

Harry is definitely teary eyed once the movie ends but when he wipes his thumbs under his eyes, Louis pretends not to see. For some reason, it’s not surprising that Harry is the emotional one out of the two of them.

“So that’s your favorite?” Louis asks once Harry has dropped his hands from his face.

“I think so,” he says. “I watch a lot of romantic comedies actually so it can be hard to have an ultimate favorite. Like, Pretty Woman and The Notebook are up there. There’s a really emotional movie called Like Crazy I watch when I want to cry.” He looks surprised he’s said that much as he stares at Louis with wide eyes. “On that note,” he says, quickly, “I’m going to take a piss. I’ll be back.”

Louis laughs and nods in a haze of confusion as Harry scrambles to get out of the back of the car.

Once Harry comes back, Louis takes his turn at the bathroom and buys a couple of bottles of water from the concession stand on his walk back. He gets a pack of Skittles for them to share which seems to please Harry as they get situated again. There’s a short intermission between the two movies and Louis notices some people leaving already, others pulling their cars closer to the front.

Something about the first movie has left Louis feeling lighter which is probably the marketing strategy for romantic comedies anyway. Though, admittedly, he doesn’t indulge as often as Harry suggests he does.

“That always makes me want to fall in love,” Harry says. He turns so his back is against the side of trunk and his feet are by Louis’s hip in a mirrored position across from him.

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m serious,” Harry says, barely smiling. “Anytime I watch a movie like that, it makes you forget all the bull shit of being in a relationship and just want to get back to the romance of it all.” He must see the disbelief on Louis’s face when he adds, “You don’t feel like that?”

“Not exactly, no.” Louis isn’t sure how deep into a confession they’re about to go but he kind of takes a dive off the deep end. “I’ve never found relationships to be particularly happy.”

Harry doesn’t seem to judge him when he nods. “So you’ve never been in love?”

Louis laughs at the blunt question. “I have. Only once, I think. Nothing else really came close.” He rubs his lips together, deciding how much to say.

“Who were they?” Harry asks. There’s no judgement in his voice and Louis can’t help the flutter in his stomach at noticing Harry’s pronoun use.

“His name was Aaron,” Louis says just as he realizes he’s officially come out to Harry now. No going back. “We were seventeen and seniors in high school. He was my first real boyfriend - the reason I knew I was very, very gay,” he says.

“What was he like?” Harry asks softly.

“Not very nice,” Louis says just as quietly. He glances down at his hands and then back up to Harry. “Not very nice in the end.”

The way it went down still lingers in his mind sometimes - even four years past. Aaron’s parents giving him an ultimatum about being gay, Aaron pulling away from Louis without explanation, Aaron dating a girl named Kaitlyn a month later. Louis thought they were in love - Finding out the opposite was true was life shattering in its own special way.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, holding Louis’s gaze in a way that makes Louis think he gets it in a way most people don’t. Louis looks away first.

“I’ve kind of stayed away from relationships since him,” Louis says, trying to brighten his tone. They’re on a summer road trip at a drive-in movie - it’s not the time for a fucking sob story. “It’s worked out so far.”

Harry smirks, “You’re a love them and leave them guy now?”

Louis tilts his head and clicks his tongue, “A respectful boy never kisses and tells.”

Harry smiles and looks away, his eyes lingering out over the front row of cars.

“What about you?” Louis can’t help his curiosity, “What’s your love story?”

Harry looks back and his smile fades. “I always thought I’d been in love with a lot of people but it turns out I’ve really only been in love once.” He licks his lip, “A guy,” he says before Louis can ask. “I identify as bi but it’s only been guys for a while now.”

Louis nods, impressed at Harry’s ease and confidence in something that was probably easier to work out in his head than to say out loud.

Harry clears his throat and scratches his neck - fidgeting again. “I fall for the wrong people,” Harry says. “And I always fall too hard. This guy, Matt, god, I thought he had hung the moon and the stars just for me.” His laugh is a little bitter before he speaks again. “Loving him, being in love with him, was an all-consuming tornado,” he says. “I came out on the other side and I didn’t know up from down but I knew I was alone.”

Louis can see Harry’s struggle to get the words out and it only peaks his curiosity more. Who this Matt guy could be - what the fuck he did to Harry to make him lose control.

“It took me a long time to figure it out after him,” Harry says. “Up from down and left from right. It was re-learning what I thought I knew. I lost myself.”

Louis is completely lost himself, but it’s like Harry isn’t talking to him anymore, just talking to himself.

“Sometimes, I think I’ve found myself again,” he says slowly. “But some days I think I’m still working on it”

There’s not a chance to say anything else as the spotlights over the parking lot suddenly go out and DieHard begins with a rattling explosion. Louis sees Harry jump in the light from the screen and it makes his stomach flutter oddly. Harry had been in a different place just then, when they were talking. He clearly wasn’t across from Louis anymore but the movie has brought him back.

Louis moves back to the spot he was in for Notting Hill and Harry follows, their backs pressed against the back of the backseat, thighs and knees touching. Harry is stiff next to Louis and he’s not sure what he can do to help him, how to get him back from wherever it is he’s gone. The only thing he can do is unfurl the blanket over their legs and breathe evenly - hope Harry catches his start.

Harry didn’t say when his relationship with Matt started or ended but Louis can almost sense it was pretty recent. The way Harry looks like he’s seen a ghost is the way Louis used to feel talking about Aaron. He controls it better now, absorbs the emotion instead of playing it out on his face but it took some time. Like Harry said, maybe he’s still working on it.

As he is ought to do, Louis forgets about Harry as he draws himself into the drama of Bruce Willis’s world - the explosions and action scenes keeping his heart pounding. He jumps when he feels Harry move next to him but settles when he realizes it’s only Harry’s head on his shoulder. In the beat when he realizes it should be shocking to him - Harry’s head on his shoulder - he hears Harry’s stuttered breathing and realizes he’s fallen asleep. The first thing he happened to do while unconscious is lean toward Louis.

Louis pulls the blanket higher around them both and then lets Harry sleep, the warm weight and soft breathing like a comfort even this far from home.

*

[DAY FIVE](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165068918944/day-five-totem-pole-park-foyil-oklahoma-x-x)

Carthage, Missouri

 

Light pours into the car without restriction - the widest window on the back of the Jeep acting like an unfiltered spotlight. Louis scrunches his eyes to make it go away but it doesn’t really work and only makes him realize how sore his body is from being folded all night, the crick in his neck from a too soft pillow. He begrudgingly opens his eyes to Harry’s socked feet in his face and pulls back slightly. He knows his feet are by Harry’s head but it doesn’t make it any better.

They’d arranged long-ways in the back of the car once Die Hard had finished, carefully wrapping in their own blankets and lining the extra pillows down the center so they wouldn’t accidentally touch. It was all very scientific in their cramped space even if Harry had fallen back asleep while Louis was still trying to establish boundaries.

Boundaries definitely don’t amount to comfort, Louis realizes now - too little too late. His body is stiff in ways it wasn’t after sleepovers as a kid, when sleeping on the floor was second nature and far more exciting than an actual bed.  

Louis is careful as he crawls up over the backseat and lets himself out the back door. He slips on his shoes before he drops onto the dewy grass, a rush of cold morning air racing toward him like summer camp mornings. He shuts the door to the Jeep softly, hopeful some of their body warmth will be left over to let Harry sleep.

There are a couple other car doors opening around him as people wake up and emerge from their makeshift camp zones. Louis stretches his hands overhead and hears his back bubble and pop as he twists. It’s all kinds of satisfying.

He wanders off toward the public restroom and then sees a concession stand has been opened with coffee and donuts. He checks his pocket for his wallet and buys two cups of coffee and two pastries.

“What time is it?” He asks the girl who takes his money, a nose piercing shimmering in the morning light.

“Just after six,” she says as Louis moves out of the way.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he walks away with wide eyes. It’s practically the middle of the night.

Harry is awake when Louis comes back, sitting on their nest of blankets with the back hatch of the Jeep open and a blank look on his face.

“This is awful,” he says when Louis is close enough to hear him. His voice is scratchy and his eyes are red - looking exactly how Louis feels. “I’m so achy.”

“Let me add to the pain by saying it’s only six in the morning,” Louis says with a smile as Harry grimaces. “But I also bought coffee and donuts, so things may be looking up.”

They sit together in the back of the Jeep as they drink their coffee and eat the donuts, Harry staring blankly when Louis licks the excess frosting from each of his fingers. It’s mostly quiet around them, everyone too sleepy to do much else but pack their cars or have some caffeine. Louis can imagine chatting with people about whether or not they’re on road trips too, where they’re headed next and what they’re doing - but he doesn’t actually want to leave the warmth of Harry’s side. So, he doesn’t.

They leave less than an hour later after Harry uses the restroom and they repack the car in some semblance of the way it was done originally. They play rock paper scissors to see who is going to drive for the next leg and Harry loses.

Louis smiles sweetly when he groans and promises he’ll stay awake to help navigate. He’s pretty sure he falls asleep before they’ve even left the drive-in parking lot.

*

When Harry stops the car in Foyil, Oklahoma nearly two hours later, Louis thinks he’s in a bad dream. Totem Pole Park is filled with totem poles as large as small buildings with funky designs and a few threatening faces.

“What the fuck are we supposed to do with them?” Louis asks as soon as Harry secures the parking brake.

Harry’s laugh is light as he shrugs. “Walk around and look, I guess? Stretch our legs?”

Louis undoes his seatbelt in slow motion. Nothing about Totem Pole Park screams excitement, least of all the deserted parking lot and bored looking attendant in the Visitor Booth.

“It’ll be excellent content for the blog you’re starting,” Harry says, opening his door. “Harry and Giant Things, was it?”

Louis laughs, barely remembering what he had planned to call his imaginary blog. “I think I might need to come up with a new name,” Louis muses, getting out of the car as well. “It might get flagged as pornography with a name like that.”

Harry rolls his eyes, looping his camera around his neck. “You can brainstorm names while we walk around,” he says with a smile. Louis rolls his own eyes in response.

Walking around is a welcome change from being in the car, Louis admits begrudgingly. And though the totem poles are mostly odd and starting to become antiqued, it is interesting to watch the grass climb up the sides and read the historic blurbs every once in awhile. Louis even offers to take a picture of Harry with the biggest one they come across - nearly eighty feet tall. It’s only as they’re walking back to the Jeep that Louis realizes Harry has been taking pictures of him too - subtle ones he doesn’t even realize except for the faded and dull clicking of the shutter every once in awhile.

*

“I think we’re lost.”

Louis glances over to Harry who had been asleep all of two minutes ago - or so he thought. “We’re not,” he says. He points to where his phone is stationed in its holder next to the stereo. “The map says we’re on the right path.”

Harry sits up in his seat and looks out the window. To be fair, they do look like they’re in the middle of nowhere which isn’t very reassuring. But Louis has followed each direction as it’s been given to him; something Harry clearly doesn’t believe as he plucks Louis’s phone from the holder and pulls it closer to his face.

“We’re supposed to be on 66,” Harry says, dragging his finger on the screen to zoom in on the map. “Which is a highway. This is definitely a back road.”

Granted, Louis saw a tractor a couple miles back and the grass fields are encroaching on the asphalt in a significant fashion, but there’s no way they’re on the wrong path.

“Have you been to Oklahoma?” Louis asks, looking over.

“What does that matter?” Harry asks a bit incredulously.

“Because you don’t know what this portion of Highway 66 looks like and this could very well be it.”

“It’s not,” Harry says. “There’s no way this is a highway.”

“Close-minded much?” Louis rolls his eyes. “We’re not in Chicago anymore, Dorothy.”

“Shut up,” Harry snaps, going back to studying the phone. “You’re not helping.”

“Helping?” Louis shakes his head and motions around. “There’s nothing to be helped. The map told me to go this way and so I did. Just because it doesn’t fit the phony image of Highway 66 in your delusional mind, doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

“I’m not delusional.” Harry’s voice goes slightly louder and then he shakes his head.

Louis bites down on a sarcastic remark. “How far does it say we are?”

“Twenty minutes,” Harry says begrudgingly. “But there’s no way that’s right.”

Louis raises his eyebrows primly, “How about you wait twenty minutes and if we don’t come across it, you can start complaining again. Save your breath in the meantime.”

“I’m not complaining,” Harry says in an aggressive voice that sounds a lot like complaining to Louis. “I’m just saying that I think we are going the wrong way and I personally don’t want to be stranded in Oklahoma when we run out of road.”

“This isn’t the Oregon Trail,” Louis says. “We’re not going to run out road or float our wagon across a river. Don’t worry.”

“You are so annoying.” Harry puts the phone back in the cup holder nearest Louis and looks back out the window.

They’re passing a field of cows and it’s not an encouraging sign that they’re not lost so Louis pretends not to notice. Harry definitely notices.  “You think there’s going to be a herd of cows outside a landmark cafe?”

“Yes,” Louis says confidently. “It’s probably atmospheric.” Harry actually snorts and Louis rolls his eyes. “Seriously? Like that’s not so out of the scheme of all the other shit you’ve chosen for us to visit so far?”

“Back to this, really?” Harry runs his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Right when I think we’re actually doing okay, you have to be a complete asshole.”

Louis can bicker with the best of them, and he knows he could easily go back and forth with Harry until they really are stranded in Oklahoma, so he does his best to bite his tongue. “I apologize,” he says slowly. “I’m just as frustrated as you are and running on a donut from four hours ago is doing nothing for my mood.”

He stays staring straight ahead but he sees Harry fishmouthing in the corner of his eye before Harry presses his lips together and relaxes back into his seat. He clearly didn’t expect Louis to show anything close to an apology in his hand of cards.

“It’s okay,” Harry says finally, quieter than everything else from the last few minutes. “I shouldn’t blame you. It’s not like you’ve been to Oklahoma either.” He clears his throat, “I am having a good time with you. Despite how it might seem.”

Louis definitely didn’t expect that and his hands tense on the wheel at Harry’s words. “I’m having fun too,” he manages. “Despite how it might seem.”

Harry smiles briefly at Louis’s word choice, and Louis winks before looking back at the road. It’s like they’ve come to some sort of agreement though Louis can’t be sure what it is they’re agreeing on.

Twenty minutes later, they’re still in the field of cows and Harry is clearly vibrating with the need to point it out. It’s no help when the Maps voice echoes through the car, “You have arrived. Your destination is on the right.”

Louis slows the Jeep and glances to the right, just in case. He’s met with a blank stare from Harry and a blank stare from a cow just beyond his shoulder who has taken interest in the car where it’s definitely not supposed to be.

Louis clears his throat and glances away, “Harry?”

“Louis.” Harry’s voice is flat but Louis can hear the edge of a laugh over it.

“I think we might be lost.”

*

It turns out Route 66 runs parallel to Quackback Road with a mile between them. So, technically, Louis was driving the right direction but a few thousand feet to the wrong side. Or, that’s what he tries to explain to Harry when they’re walking inside Pops 66 Soda Ranch - a legendary gas station and cafe off of the old Route 66.

“That’s like showing up an hour late to an interview and saying you were in the wrong building.”

“Exactly,” Louis says, smirking. “A valid excuse.”

Pops 66 Soda Ranch definitely doesn’t belong in a field of cows. The modern building is lit up with neon signs and a bottle shaped sign that is over sixty feet tall because, as Louis is learning, nothing truly exists without something else massive to mark to spot.

Inside, there are refrigerators running both lengths of the side-walls, all filled with different bottles of soda. There are over 700 varieties from coffee flavored to grape and Louis gets a kick out of Harry pointing to each new one he spots and gasping. “How is hazelnut root beer even good?” and “Do you think Rocket Mountain Loveland Lemon Lime does something to your sex drive?” He laughs about Rocket Fizz in a variety flavors and gags over all grape-related flavors.

They build their own six-packs from the various bottles and then order lunch. Or, Louis eats while Harry takes photos of every possible display until Louis threatens to leave him if he doesn’t come back and actually eat his food. Harry flips him off and takes a too-big bite of his hamburger he ends up choking on. Louis calls it karma when Harry has to clear his throat by drinking the only soda left on the table - Louis’s grape flavored Rocket Fizz.

*

They almost get lost, again, on the way to Oklahoma City and end up bickering back and forth all over again - the earlier truce they’d made in the cow field already fading.

“If you would have some faith in me for one fucking second,” Louis says loudly over Harry’s complaint of him not following the map and making his own path.

Louis is wildly smug when he sees the sign for the city limits up ahead and points at it silently until Harry looks at it, too. Harry’s cheeks turn pink but this time he doesn’t apologize.

They end up in Bricktown - the entertainment district as Harry so diligently noted in his itinerary journal. Louis isn’t confident what kind of entertainment Harry is planning for them so he’s pleased to find a string of bars and restaurants in a relatively modern part of the city. Louis is so excited to be back in a city and not just passing through, he actually smiles.

They get a room at the Hilton Garden Inn which Louis regrets following Harry’s immediate jokes about not seeing any gardens nearby. Louis just hands his credit card to the front desk attendant who is helplessly charmed by Harry’s comedic prowess and keeps smiling after them as they go to the elevators.

“I can’t believe you just planned for just a night to go out,” Louis says once they’re in the room, air conditioning turned up too high in true Harry fashion.

“Why is that so surprising?” Harry asks as he pulls open the zipper on his bag and starts filtering through his clothes.

 _You don’t seem fun_ seems too cruel to say so Louis shrugs. “You don’t seem like you would enjoy going out.”

Harry stops digging through his bag. “I don’t seem fun?”

Somehow Harry’s uncanny ability to read Louis’s thoughts is still lingering. “That’s not what I said.”

“You implied it,” Harry said. “And I resent your implication.”

Louis tries not to laugh and fails, falling back on the bed and sighing in the white down cloud of softness - a helpless and happy cry from last night’s bedroom. “Harry Styles, you make me want a drink.”

Harry gapes at him but doesn’t seem able to come up with a good response as he huffs off to the bathroom. Louis is worried he’s locked himself in but then he hears the shower start and sighs into the bed again. A shower and a beer all sound heavenly, he thinks, as his eyes drift shut.

*

Waking up to Harry Styles half-naked and wet is not part of Louis’s heaven but he considers adding it immediately.

When Louis opens his eyes from the nap he didn’t mean to take, Harry is only wearing a towel. It’s just like their very first night as he sorts through the clothes in his bag and Louis definitely stares. There’s just something about water glistening over the edges of his arms and making his tattoos shinier, his hair falling into his face and the muscles in his back gliding as he pulls out a pair of jeans followed by a shirt.

Louis stays perfectly still when Harry looks up, their eyes meeting across the room in a way that tells him Harry knew he was staring all along. They both hold eye contact silently, Harry blinking slowly.  Louis clears his throat and stands up quickly - flustered in a way he’s not used to being.

“I’m going to shower,” he mutters, darting to the bathroom and closing the door with more force than is wholly necessary.

He stands with his back to the door and feels the flutter of his heart in his chest - the way it’s less like a butterfly and more like a herd of antelope.

“Why?” He whispers with a hand over his chest, “Why?”

He’s talking to his heart but he’s asking himself, full well knowing he doesn’t have an answer. Harry is annoying and a bit of a brat, he thinks he’s right eighty percent of the time and is bossy in a way only younger siblings can be. He clearly has control issues and a dredged up relationship he doesn’t want to deal with - baggage Louis doesn’t really want to deal with either.

But.

Louis presses his fingernails into his palm when he thinks of Harry on the roller coaster - the way he made himself do it and held Louis’s hand, the way he admitted he was wrong. He thinks of Harry loving romantic comedies and falling asleep during Die Hard - falling asleep on _Louis_ during Die Hard. He flattens his hand against his chest when he thinks of Harry’s stupid jokes and annoying itinerary - the way he doesn’t mind wasting a day taking pictures and smiles like he’s got a secret.

“Oh my god,” Louis says, dropping his head against the door and sighing. “Oh my fucking god.”

“What?”

Louis jumps as he hears Harry’s muffled voice outside the door. He turns around and cracks it open, his heart beating wildly for an entirely different reason now. “What?” He opens the door a little further when he realizes Harry is standing in the hallway between the bathroom and main area of the room. “What do you want?”

“I heard you talking?” Harry says hesitantly, eyes flicking away as he clearly realizes he may have been eavesdropping.

Louis’s eyes drop down to Harry’s legs because the towel is gone and now he’s only in a pair of black jeans that hug his thighs and are still unbuttoned because he clearly ran to help Louis when he heard him talking to himself

“I wasn’t,” Louis lies easily, eyes lingering a beat too long on Harry’s toned stomach and then meeting his eyes. “I wasn’t,” he repeats.

Harry nods and wanders away, leaving Louis trying to catch his breath again as he slips back inside the bathroom and closes the door quietly.

“Get it together,” he says, this time in a whisper. He flips on the shower and pulls his shirt over his head.

Harry Styles really, really, makes him want a drink.

*

[Bricktown](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165169883349/day-five-bricktown-oklahoma-city-oklahoma-x-x-x) is lit up by the time they come out of the Hilton Garden Inn - strands of lights strung from one end of the street to another, a canal that looks European shimmering along a side street. Louis can barely focus on admiring the sights - far more interested in heading for the nearest bar.

He’s seen Harry in jeans, jean shorts, leggings and sweatpants over the past few days. He’s worn tank tops, sweatshirts, t-shirts with holes, Nike running shoes and athletic sliders. Louis, however, has not seen Harry wear anything like he’s pulled on for tonight.

The jeans are the same - less holes, maybe - but they seem tighter, like they’re newer than his others. The boots are definitely new - golden and shiny with a bit of a heel that has done wonders for Harry’s already long legs. As if Louis could focus on his legs, that is. He’s wearing a completely sheer top to complete the ensemble and that, more than the boots or the jeans, is making Louis need alcohol. It’s not like he’s never seen a sheer shirt but there’s something about it that seems teasing on Harry - like it’s a shirt he wears to go out to bars when he plans to get laid, like it’s a shirt other people enjoy taking off of him.

Louis actually has to shake his head as that thought curves in his mind. For some reason, tonight is getting to him, _Harry_ is getting to him, and he refuses to let it happen.

“This is a strip club,” Harry says as Louis reaches for the door of the first bar he sees. Or, what he thinks is a bar.

He pauses at Harry’s words and glances up at the sign: Chix on Dix.

Louis drops his hand and turns around, heading back to the street.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t go,” Harry says, following after him quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I was just pointing it out.”

Louis stops and turns to face Harry. “Harry, I am very, very gay.”

Harry blinks but doesn't say anything.

“A place called Chix on Dix is like, physically painful to my well-being.”

This time Harry laughs as they start walking again, whatever reservations he’d had about Louis being offended fading away.

The next closest place is Bricktown Brewery which serves as a good starting point. They order a pitcher of beer to share and split a plate of onion rings on the back patio, listening as the nightlife starts to rev up around them.

“When I think of Oklahoma, this is definitely not what comes to mind,” Louis says. In his humble and terribly honest opinion, he’d imagined a lot of farmers, a lot more cow fields like the one they got lost in earlier.

“Definitely.” Harry smacks his lips after a sip of beer. “The cows were peak Oklahoma. Or, what I imagined to be peak Oklahoma.”

“Exactly.” Louis splits an onion ring in half and takes a bite.

Harry grabs the other half of the onion ring and bites into it with a smile. “I used to think I’d enjoy living in the country.”

Louis looks pointedly under the table at Harry’s boots and then back to his face. “Oh, did you?”

“Yes,” Harry drawls with a smile. “I did. I thought it seemed like a peaceful way of life. Very relaxing.”

“Then what happened?” Louis takes another onion ring and drags it through some ranch sauce. He licks his fingers after he takes the bite.

“Nothing happened,” Harry says with a shrug. “I just grew out of it, I guess.”

“I mean, you wanted a peaceful life and then you didn’t?” Louis raises his eyebrows, “That sounds like something changed.”

Harry shakes his head, half smiling. “No, really. I think I was equating peace to the place instead of it belonging with the people I’m around. Do you know what I mean?”

Louis tilts his head back and forth, weighing. He can kind of see where Harry is going.

“I mean -” He’s cut off by his phone vibrating against his beer, the sound muffling when he pulls the phone away from the glass. “Sorry,” he says, glancing at Louis.

“Feel free to take it,” Louis says. He picks up his beer and finishes it.

Harry glances at his phone and, for a moment, Louis thinks he’s going to answer but then he just sets it face down on the table. “Where was I?”

“Discussing world peace,” Louis says. He fills his glass from the pitcher and tops Harry’s off.

Harry rolls his eyes. “What I meant is that I don’t need a lake to be peaceful or happy if I surround myself with people or experiences who give me the same feelings. It’s like that home without a house as long as you’re in love thing.”

“Ah, yes, that thing,” Louis teases, smiling over the edge of his glass. “I forgot you’re a romantic.”

Harry juts out his chin and turns his head to the side. “Is that really a romantic thing?”

“You’d give up four walls and a roof just to be with the person you love.”

Harry laughs and his eyes light up with it. “That’s not what I said! Or, what I meant, I guess. I mean that you don’t have to have a mansion and a picket fence to be happy.”

“Thank god,” Louis drawls. “I never wanted a picket fence to begin with.”

“You need love,” Harry speaks over him without raising his voice. “Love makes the world go around and as long as there’s love in the world, there can be happiness.”

Louis grabs the edges of his chair and looks around startled. He puts a hand over his heart when Harry narrows his eyes at him. “I thought we’d gone back to the seventies there for a minute.”

Harry doesn’t respond as he finishes his beer, but there’s a smile on his lips when he says, “Ready to go? I need a shot of something.”

*

Louis has a story about pink drinks. It starts with him as a brand new freshman at University of Southern California and having an odd Midwestern twist on his words from growing up in Illinois. The middle of the story is something like flirting with a boy who loved the way he talked, both of them sipping on a thick pink concoction that tasted like Malibu. The ending of the story is Louis puking all over the very cute boy who liked his accent all because of the pink concoction that tasted like Malibu. The moral of his story has always been to stay away from pink drinks. But when Harry Styles buys him a shot called a Pink Panty Dropper in a club converted from a 1900’s horse stall - he downs it so quickly it almost makes the world spin.

“I’ve lost track of how many we’ve had,” Louis says as Harry takes his own, extraordinarily pink shot. It's sweet - too sweet - and they’re definitely going to need tequila to follow it up. That’s how Louis’s mind works when he can’t remember how many shots he’s taken and there’s a handsome boy with gold boots and a see through shirt in front of him - always more tequila.

“Too many,” Harry says, his lips red and shiny, his cheeks dancing quickly to pink.

Club15 drew them in with loud bass though Louis has never been much of a dancer. They were escorted to a booth on a balcony over the dance floor and that may be the reason they’ve stayed so long. They started with a shot of tequila each and then they got creative - Slippery Nipples, Wisconsin Lunchboxes and Tic-Tac shots until the world started to get a bit blurry and everything started to sound hilarious.

Case in point - Harry’s phone that keeps vibrating from messages and texts.

“It’s like Grand Central Station,” Louis muses at one point as Harry gets three calls in a row.

“It’s not,” Harry grumbles as he flips the phone again. He keeps flipping it face down but it keeps ending up turned the other way. Louis is pretty sure Harry is the one doing it but he keeps missing whenever it happens.

At one point Louis thinks it vibrates for a full minute and he has to stop their conversation of what drinks to buy next just to stare at it.

“Stop,” Harry says, pushing the phone away. “Do you like rum?”

“Not a big rum fan,” Louis says with his eyes fixed on the phone. “Are you sure there’s not an emergency?”

Harry shakes his head. “No emergency. If I buy you a rum drink in a coconut, does that change your mind about rum?”

Louis forgets the phone to look at Harry, smiling slowly. “Yes, actually it does.”

They end up with coconut drinks with pink umbrellas in them, twirling around the balcony haphazardly and pausing every once in awhile to watch the dance floor below.

Louis isn’t actually surprised by how fun Harry is, except for how he’s incredibly surprised by how fun Harry is now that he’s seeing him like this. Harry actually has a good sense of humor and he never runs out of things to talk about. He clearly likes to have a good time and Louis has the sneaking suspicion it’s been awhile since he really let himself.

“What if I went down there and just did ballet in the middle of all those people?” Harry asks with a smile when midnight has already passed them by.

“I will buy you a drink,” Louis offers, not bothering to ask if Harry’s done ballet before. It’s not even a good deal since they’ve been trading drink purchases all night but Harry offers his condensation-slick hand for a handshake anyway and then he’s handing Louis his coconut and heading for the stairs to the main dance floor.

Louis wishes, desperately, he had Harry’s camera as he watches him weave through the crowd to the center. He keeps getting jostled by people and Louis counts three separate couples who try to pull him into their grinding - like he would be a fun flavor to add for the night. Louis feels a flash of anger at those grabby hands so he takes a bigger drink from his coconut. Possibly from Harry’s coconut, he’s not sure which one belongs to whom.

He can’t help his grin when Harry finally makes it to the middle of the floor and looks up at him, a smile on his flushed face. Louis raises his eyebrows as if he’s unimpressed and then watches as Harry lifts his arms over his head in some semblance of a ballet hold, twirling in the center of the floor as bodies writhe against each other on either side of him.

He’s a terrible ballerina, Louis thinks, but there’s something in the way he moves, the smile on his face. Louis knows Harry says he’s shy and that it’s hard to meet strangers but Louis thinks there’s something hidden inside him. Some ridiculous thing like a light that makes people stop to watch him, stop to pay attention. He certainly got Louis’s attention the moment he walked into Niall’s apartment five days ago.

Five days ago.

The time has whirled by in a rush of tourism but Louis can’t help thinking of the intimacy that now exists between him and Harry. He knows that Harry snores and is allergic to bees and always eats the pickles off his sandwiches first. He’s not even sure he knows that kind of stuff about the guys he just graduated college with.

Louis watches as Harry The Ballerina tries to balance on one leg and falls into the writhing masses who don’t take too kindly to his interruption. Louis stays frozen as Harry apologizes to a guy taller and wider than him who he has knocked into. Even from the balcony, Louis sees Harry flash a dimpled grin and then dart through the crowd toward the stairs.

Louis slips his tongue out his mouth in search of his straw. The day Harry Styles realizes he’s got starlight in his smile is the day the whole world is fucked.

Their booth is filled with empty glasses and used bar napkins so Louis grabs their phones and switches to the next nearest table, both of their coconuts still in his possession. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, in fact he doesn’t actually have control over it, when Harry’s phone lights up in his hand. It’s his gut instinct to look at the screen - he is a member of the iPhone generation, after all. It still probably doesn’t work as an excuse as he stares at the screen - the calling coming from a contact listed under just the letter ‘M’ with a skull and a hazard sign emoji next to it. The call ends and the notifications pile on the screen lock screen - all from the same person. Seven missed calls. Six texts.

Louis isn’t quick enough to put the phone down when he sees Harry coming, his reflexes aren’t exactly firing on all cylinders when he’s six - maybe seven - drinks deep. He gets to watch Harry’s smile drip from his face as he sees Louis looking at his phone, the way he seems to curve in on himself as he slides into the empty spot opposite Louis.

“I didn’t mean to look,” Louis offers lamely as Harry takes the phone back from him.

“But now you know my dirty secret,” Harry offers just as lamely. He glances at the phone and then locks it, putting it face down.

“M is -”

Harry completes the thought. “Matt, yeah.”

Louis nods and pushes Harry’s coconut - or at least someone’s coconut - toward him. “Are you still together, or?”

“No, god no,” Harry is quick this time shaking his head. “We’ve broke up winter of my freshman year. A year and a half now.”

Louis nods as Harry plays with the umbrella on his drink. He’s past tipsy and not feeling exactly prepared for whatever conversation they’re having - or going to have. “So he’s calling because?”

“You’re asking a lot of leading questions,” Harry says, calling him on it. There’s a hint of a smile in his words but nowhere on his face.

“Have I told you I want to be a lawyer?”

Harry actually smiles before hunching over to take a sip of his drink. He sits up and wipes his mouth, his gaze dropping to the table before meeting Louis’s again.

“Matt calls me when he’s drunk sometimes.”

“Okay,” Louis says slowly, his eyes going wide when Harry doesn’t add anything else. “Why?”

Harry shrugs, “I don’t know. I don’t like, answer his calls.” He holds up his phone briefly, “Clearly.”

“That wasn’t just on my behalf?” Louis teases, his lips twitching.

Harry shakes his head.

“Do you ever answer?” Louis doesn’t know when his questions will go too far but Harry takes this one.

“I did a few times.” He rubs his jaw and shrugs, an answer to a question Louis didn’t ask. “A little bit after we broke up when the anger kind of settled. He said all this really nice stuff about us getting back together.” Harry’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head like he can’t follow his own train of thought. “I believed him. When he said it would be better if we got back together. One night he told me to come over right then so we could talk about it.”

Louis swallows, “Did you go?”

“Yes,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. Louis thinks it’s more at himself than at Louis, thankfully. “I thought he was serious and when I went to his apartment we like, hooked up.” He rubs his hands over his face, “I can’t even believe I’m telling you this. Believe me, I wouldn’t be if I wasn’t drinking from a coconut in Oklahoma City.”

Louis laughs at how true the statement is. “You don’t have to tell me anything.” There’s a pause, like Harry’s waiting. “Unless you want to.”

Harry shrugs again, “It’s kind of cathartic.”

“Okay,” Louis nods, “So you went over there that night?”

Harry nods, picking up the story where he left it. “Yeah, and we hooked up. It’d been like a month since we officially broke up but I wasn’t over it. Clearly,” he says with a wave of his hand.

“Hooking up with an ex doesn’t have to mean you want anything more with them,” Louis says. “Sometimes it’s just a way to feel close again.”

Harry’s laugh is harsh as he shakes his head. “I could have used your advice that night. I thought we were getting back together even though he was drunk and I was an idiot.”

“Harry.” Louis has no idea what else to say but he doesn’t like to hear anyone refer to themselves as an idiot.

“The next morning, he acted amazed that I was still there. Not amazed like excited. Amazed like disbelief. He couldn’t believe I was dumb enough to think there was anything left between us. I think those were his exact words.”

Louis feels fury like a wave as he bites his back molars and tries to stay perfectly still. “What a dick,” he says when he feels slightly more in control of his emotions and doesn’t want to tell Harry the guy sounds like the worst kind of person.

“Understatement,” Harry says wryly.

“But he keeps calling even now?”

Harry nods. “Not as often now but still every once in awhile. I screen it all now.”

“Good.” Louis nods, “You don’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve you.” Saying it out loud, he realizes how emphatic he sounds and he takes a drink from his coconut to cover it.

“That’s the thing,” Harry says, leaning forward. “I am happier, stronger, better now than I was with him. I’m all the things I couldn’t be in that relationship.” He scratches his hands through his hair and Louis feels like there’s something in him trying to climb out, like he’s about to explode right there at the table.

“It’s hard,” Harry says finally. “It’s hard to pick yourself back up when people break you into pieces.”

Louis holds his breath and he wishes he could figure out why. He nods along with Harry anyway.

“I’ve worked really hard to put it all back together after him,” Harry says. His voice is flat but his eyes are shining as he blinks quickly. “But whenever I see his name on my phone, it’s the worst reminder. It just makes me remember the way I thought he was everything and blowing off my friends, and the program I worked my ass off to get into just to spend time with him. I remember all the ways I fell in love with him and all the ways I fucked up my own life in the process. And he wasn’t worth it, is the thing.”

Harry lifts his chin like he’s defiant and Louis isn’t sure how he’s going to make it through whatever there is left to say. He’s putting it together - in his own hazy way given his own current state. The way Harry likes things orderly; the way he sticks to a timeline like it’s the rule of law. He’s still trying to fit broken pieces back together. Pieces he gave away and might not have fully gotten back yet - control over something that he thought was good and ended up tearing him apart.

“I thought he was the love of my fucking life and he knew it,” Harry says. He half smiles but there’s no happiness there. “To him, I was only ever a wayward thought and a good lay.”

Louis is clenching his fist around his coconut and he lets go when he realizes. “And he still calls you? After everything he did, he still calls?”

Harry nods and he looks sad. For the first time since Louis met him five days ago, Harry actually looks like something has been taken from him that he can’t get back. And maybe it’s too many pink drinks all over again but Louis shakes his head vehemently, and slams his hand on the edge of the table.

“Oh, fuck that.”

Harry looks completely startled by the outburst, his eyes lighting up again when Louis starts to stand up. “What are you doing?” He asks.

Louis isn’t exactly sure he knows what he’s doing but he needs a way to channel what is running through his veins all of a sudden. He needs to do something, he needs to make Harry happy again - and if that’s not the most ridiculous drunk thought in his mind at the moment, he’s not sure what is. Harry is looking at him like he’s lost his mind and perhaps he has.

“Scoot,” he says, coming to Harry’s side of the booth.

Harry does but he looks like he’s in a hostage situation, eyes weary. “What are you doing?” He asks again.

“Unlock this,” he says, holding up the phone and feeling a bit like he’s about to rob a bank.

Harry rolls his eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” Louis says, turning to face him in the small booth. Their knees are touching and Louis is about to burst out laughing, his lips twitching as he tries to control it.

“No.” Harry starts to smile and bite down on it when Louis’s eyes trace the motion.

“Fine.” Louis pulls the phone back to himself and flips open the camera. With one swipe of his finger he gets the camera to face forward and then he leans into Harry for a picture, all within two seconds. The picture is blurry and certainly not up to Harry’s photography standards but Louis can generally make out both of their faces, his smile and Harry’s confused side-eye look.

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Harry asks, his voice going higher as he looks at Louis.

“You send it to him,” Louis says seriously. “And you says, ‘Fuck off, I’m busy’.”

There’s a quiet moment and then Harry bursts out laughing, his face coming scarily close into Louis’s with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth open. He goes silent at one point and Louis just stares, a bit confused and a bit endeared.

“What’s so funny?” He asks quietly, a small smile curving on his lips.

Harry exhales shakily as he tries to stop laughing, running his fingers under his eyes and then bursting into another fit of giggles before he can actually speak. “Nothing. Just like,” he laughs, “The way you said that was so serious like a guru with good advice.”

“That is good advice,” Louis says, a little defensive.

“It’s not,” Harry says, biting his bottom lip over another smile. “It’s antagonistic and shows his I’m clearly thinking of him when, in reality, I’m just a bit drunk.”

Louis blinks and shakes his head, lips curling under. “That’s a very wise decision. I don’t know what I would be doing if he was my ex. Probably being very antagonistic.”

Harry nods and flips his phone face down on the table. “I’m not always this wise, you know. I was heartbroken for a good few months and did some very embarrassing things.”

Louis smirks, trying to imagine. He would love to know what Harry did and whether it was actually mean-spirited or more like an angry kitten. He can bicker with Louis for hours on end but Louis isn’t sure that he can actually imagine Harry being mean. Except the first day when he blamed the bee sting on Louis - he’ll probably never get over that.

“You’re not heartbroken anymore?” Louis asks as the second part of what Harry has said settles in his mind.

Harry sticks his bottom lip out and shakes his head. “No. I don’t miss him or want him in my life. I’m actually pretty happy, you know. I’m working on myself and that’s not heartbreak - that’s something else altogether. The product of a whirlwind of first love and making sure I protect myself from what happened then.”

Louis shakes his head slowly, smiling. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”

Harry smirks. “I’ve had the time.”

The moment changes and Louis has no idea why or how. All he really knows is that it goes quiet between them, the pulse of the club still rolling. Louis becomes aware of where their knees and calves are touching; the way Harry has his arm out along the back of the booth, their body heat ricocheting in the gap between their chests.

It is Harry’s eyes that change, too as they roam over Louis’s face and pause at his mouth, swing back up to meet Louis’s gaze again. Louis swallows and feels sweat between his shoulder blades, the nervous twitch of his hands. It feels like something is about to happen between them, it feels like Harry is about to kiss him. He inhales slowly, eyes dropping to Harry’s chest and staying there as he tries to gather himself.

He wouldn’t mind - he realizes in a rush. Maybe it’s the pink drinks and the coconuts and confessions but he really wouldn’t mind being kissed by Harry Styles. He blinks and looks back up to Harry’s eyes, finds Harry looking right back. He sees the intense green and the gentle sweep of his eyelashes, his shiny red lips and pink cheeks.

He leans in, so carefully, it’s barely a movement but Harry matches it in the opposite direction, squishing himself in the back of the booth fast enough to give Louis whiplash as the closeness between them is instantly gone, a rush of cool air running between their bodies.

“I think we should leave,” Harry says, eyes not meeting Louis’s at all. “I’m tired and we need to get back on the road in the morning.”

Louis blinks and tries to catch up with what has just happened as he nods in a daze. “Yeah, let’s go,” he says, sliding back out of the booth like he’s on autopilot.

Harry gets out right after him, leads the way back through the club. Louis feels the alcohol more when he walks and he’s already wondering if he imagined everything that happened back at the table. He shakes his head and rubs at his eyes as they go out from the bar into the night, the twinkle lights still shining like a hundred fairies in the sky.

Harry walks two steps in front of him and all Louis can think is, _I really want to kiss you._

*

[DAY SIX](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165175777024/day-six-hamburger-city-cadillac-ranch-el-reno)

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Louis wakes up when it’s still dark. All he can focus on is the throbbing in his head, the intensity making it hard to open his eyes. He takes a mental inventory of himself as he lays with his eyes closed - fully dressed, shoes still on, definitely laying on something soft. He opens his eyes hesitantly, mind drawn only on the desire to get water and a painkiller as soon as possible. He lifts his head enough to see he’s lying diagonally on the fully made hotel bed. Instantly, his mind flashes to all the germs Harry has talked about for five nights but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

He stumbles into the bathroom with a hand over his forehead to keep the pain from bursting out and drinks from the faucet the way his sister’s cat used to do, not worrying as the water runs down his chin and onto his shirt in a messy stream. He turns the water off and wipes his face with his forearm and then goes in search of the painkillers he knows are somewhere in his bag.

Harry is on top of his bed too - dressed only in his socks and a pair of boxers, his mouth open as he snores softly. It’s a testament to Louis’s hangover that he doesn’t notice the snores or pause to admire Harry’s endless legs and broad back - or he doesn’t pause very long, that is. Louis takes the pills dry and strips down to his own boxers before crawling in the bed properly and burying his face into the pillow. If he doesn’t wake up for the next fifteen years, he’ll be happy about it.

*

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Harry’s low voice seeps into Louis’s conscious and he opens his eyes at the sound.

“What?” Louis’s voice is broken and scratchy. His head doesn’t hurt as badly as when he initially had but his stomach is certainly not pleased with him as it twirls on it’s own accord.

Harry is perched on the edge of his bed in the same outfit he fell asleep in, his head in his hands. He looks up at Louis with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s fuckin ten-thirty is what.”

Louis closes his eyes again, not in the mood to deal with Harry’s dramatics. “Is that a problem?” He asks.

“Yes,” Harry says exasperatedly and Louis can nearly picture the burning glare he’s probably shooting at Louis. “We needed to be on the road at eight.”

Louis rolls his eyes before remembering his eyes are closed. “Too late for that.”

Harry’s sigh is as aggressive as if he were to actually yell something and then it goes quiet. Louis hears him walk across the hotel room and into the bathroom followed by a slamming door that brings his headache back in angry force.

Louis pulls the covers up higher over his ears and then actually groans out loud when he hears the distinct sound of Harry throwing up from the bathroom. It does nothing for his own stomach as he squeezes his eyes shut again.

He’s never drinking a pink drink again.

He’s never drinking from a coconut again.

If he has to hear Harry wretch one more time, he’s never drinking anything else with a smidge of alcohol in it _ever_ again.

*

Once the puking subsides, Harry showers and then Louis goes, the warm water managing to bring him back to life with some sort of healing power. He feels better once he dries off and pulls on a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt, his wet hair drying messily around his head. He could still use a plate full of something greasy but that’s a priority for after they check out.

Harry is dressed in a similar outfit when Louis comes out of the bedroom but he’s laying flat on the bed, his hands over his eyes.  “We need to get on the road,” he says by way of addressing Louis.

Louis rolls his eyes. “I know. Let me just put my stuff in my bag and we can go.”

“We’re four hours late.”

Louis stares at him but Harry can’t see it with his hands still over his eyes. “I promise you the world is still turning, Harry,” he says. He doesn’t pack his bag nearly as well as the other mornings, just throwing things in at random and saying a little prayer it will all fit as he zips it closed. He checks under the bed and in the bathroom to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything.

Harry stays on the bed, unmoving.

“Are you ready or what?” Louis asks when he’s just starting to consider if Harry may have fallen asleep.

“I’m hungover,” Harry says loudly, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “I’m hungover and now we have to get in a car and I’m just hoping I don’t have to puke anymore. Okay?”

“And we’re late,” Louis points out. “Four hours late.”

“Believe me, I fucking know,” Harry mutters as he stands up. He puts on a pair of sunglasses, grabs his bag and leaves without saying another words.

Louis flips him off after the door has shut behind him. He can’t believe he thought he wanted to kiss him last night - not when he’s an insufferable asshole every time Louis just starts to like him. A handsome one - but that’s far beyond the point.

*

Harry makes it two minutes driving before he pulls off the side of the road with a groan. “I can’t do it,” he announces, flinging off his seatbelt. “I can’t drive.”

Louis stares as Harry gets out of the car and shuts the door behind him. He dry heaves next to the back door and then pulls open Louis’s door.

“Do you want me to drive?” Louis asks, seatbelt still securely fashioned. “Is that what this is?”

Harry nods and he looks like an overgrown puppy. Louis is not endeared.

“Are you going to ask politely or still be a dick? I’m not feeling my finest either, you know.” Even as he says it, he unbuckles his seatbelt and lets it recoil slowly.

“Please drive,” Harry says, voice low. “Please.”

Louis smirks and gets out of the car, “Oh, of course. Thanks for asking,” he says, saccharine sweet.

He gives it ten minutes of Harry holding his head out the window like a dog before he makes the executive decision to pull into the first McDonald’s parking lot he sees.

“I know this isn’t in the plan and I know we’re late,” Louis says before Harry can even look over. “Don’t even bother saying it.”

“I’m not that bad am I?” Harry asks with his head still draped out the window.

Louis snorts but doesn’t answer - Harry is clearly more hungover than he is and he’s never been a guy to kick someone when they’re down.

Louis doesn’t ask Harry what he wants as they pull through the drive-thru just hands him a sausage muffin, two hashbrowns and a Sprite without comment.  “This will save your life, I promise,” he says, placing a second identical bag in his own lap.

He’s perfected the combination over his years at college and has it down to an art. None of it is healthy but all of it has attributed to successful presentations, interviews, and meetings following too many nights gone astray.

“It’s going to rot my insides too,” Harry says opening the bag. Louis catches him inhaling the grease-filled air like it’s oxygen. Which, in their current state, it kind of is.

“After everything we’ve consumed the past few days?” Louis bites into a hash brown and thinks he tastes salvation. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, those beer nuts are probably still wreaking havoc on my intestines,” Harry says.

Louis looks over in time to see him smirking as he unwraps the straw for his drink. “Probably,” Louis says, accelerating the car back onto Route 66. His lips twitch into a smile of his own though he does his best to conceal it.

Yeah, Harry might be insufferable but Louis thinks he still may want to kiss him.

*

McDonald’s may not have many redeeming qualities but Louis feels significantly better once he eats his version of breakfast and Harry must as well - if his humming to the radio is anything to go by.

“What’s in El Reno?” Louis asks as he pulls off at the exit the map tells him to. Harry is the one who entered it into the GPS before he became too incapacitated to drive so Louis doesn’t actually know where it is they’re going. It does add a bit of mystery to the drive.

“It’s referred to as ‘Hamburger City’,” Harry says. “They have like, a giant hamburger festival every year where they cook a hamburger that weighs seven hundred and fifty pounds.”

It sounds like something out of a bad book and Louis looks over wearily. “Are we here for the festival?”

Harry actually smiles when he shakes his head. “No, it’s in May. We missed it.”

“I’m heartbroken, for one,” Louis says drily, though silently thanking his lucky stars.

“You know, the Arkansas border is just a few hours from us. I’d be happy to detour to the giant ball of paint instead. It’s probably bigger than the hamburger anyway.”

Louis laughs lightly, “I’m fine, thank you. And as if you would mess up the itinerary for that.”

Harry scoffs, “In the name of art? You’d be surprised.”

*

Harry’s planned activity in Hamburger City still involves hamburgers though not giant ones. There are three famous hamburger restaurants all in a line on a block and they end up doing a hamburger crawl through all three - splitting one hamburger at each and finishing off with a milkshake at the very last one.

Harry takes pictures of their food at each restaurant, at one point standing up on his chair to get a better overhead shot of the table.

“This is embarrassing,” Louis drones while simultaneously trying to stay out of the photo.

“Is it?” The right side of Harry’s lips lift into a half smile, just enough to make his dimple curve in. “Should I stay up here longer?”

Louis shields his eyes and slides lower in the booth.

“Who do you know here?” Harry asks, laughing over his words. “Who in here is actually paying attention to me?”

Louis drops his hand, “To the attractive man in shorts standing on the booth like it’s a stage at a strip club?”

Harry smiles fully. “Attractive?” Louis flips him off and Harry takes a picture with his camera. He stays up on the booth for a bit longer before finally sitting down.

He looks far too pleased with himself and it does nothing for the turmoil in Louis’s brain when it comes to Harry Styles. He’s so rude but he’s so sweet; he’s funny and he’s grumpy. He’s a fucking anomaly and Louis is starting to become too attached for his own good.

“I’m going to go into a food coma,” Louis announces as they go back to the car after the final restaurant. “Please tell me you can drive.”

Harry holds out his hand for they keys, “I can drive. We’re going to Texas next, you know. We should get cowboy hats.”

Louis shakes his head. “We should definitely not.”

“Are you saying I don’t look like a bull rider?”

Louis is too fragile to think of Harry riding anything so he dismisses Harry’s comment with a wave of his hand. “Texas is a pretty fucking conservative place, H. You’re not going to like it.”

“I like how you say that as if I don’t know how to read an electoral map,” Harry muses with a quirked eyebrow. He unlocks the Jeep and they both get in on their respective sides, Louis’s feet automatically going up to the dashboard. Harry swats them off.

“Maybe I’m a bull rider in my spare time and I kiss boys. America is a beautiful place, Louis. Embrace it.”

Louis rolls his eyes and puts his feet back up.  “I’m going to embrace my food coma, cowboy.” He tries to sound annoyed but it’s more difficult when Harry is like this, joking around and smiling like he knows something Louis doesn’t. It’s really fucking hard to be annoyed.

He closes his eyes and waits for the car to start. Harry does start it eventually but not before putting a Garth Brooks Spotify playlist on the radio.

*

Louis wakes up somewhere outside of Weatherford which, he’s disappointed to find, is still in Oklahoma.

“What’s wrong with Oklahoma?” Harry asks when Louis tells him. The Garth Brooks tunes have transformed to Arctic Monkeys sometime during Louis’s nap.

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Louis says. “Just like, being in the car isn’t that fun when you see the same things over and over.”

The grass out the windows is all dried up and though there are some animals every once in awhile - they’re mostly minding their own business and not interested in the cars on the highway. The land is flat in every direction which makes Louis uneasy for no real reason. It feels to exposed in this part of the country, like if the car broke down they would be stranded with nothing to find for miles.

“Are you talking about me?”

“What?” Louis looks away from a swath of sheep in a field to the right.

“You said you were sick of seeing the same things over and over,” Harry says. “Am I one of those?”

Louis has a suspicion Harry is fishing for compliments but he’s not sure he would be bold enough to do that. “Not bored of you yet, no,” he finally manages. “I’m still trying to figure you out, you know.”

“Figure what out?” Harry shifts his hands on the steering wheel, “I’m not that complicated.”

Louis wants to talk more about what they discussed last night - about Harry’s whirlwind romance that left him in all sorts of a mess. He doesn’t know how to bring it up without the smooth glide of alcohol under their tongues. Everything is always harder in the daylight.

“Does an investigator ever tell the suspect what he’s investigating?” Louis sounds like a prat and he knows it, so he grins after he says it.

Harry gasps and looks over, “Am I the suspect? Are you an investigator? Is this what roleplaying is?”

Louis laughs and rolls down the window on his side to breathe in the air that smells like a field of cows. “Fuck off,” he says which only makes Harry laugh.

They spend the next hour in relative silence except for Harry pointing out when he sees baby animals in the fields which isn’t annoying at all. “Baby,” he says pointing at a lamb, then, “Baby,” at a pony running with two other horses and then, “Baby, baby, baby,” when they come across three calves standing next to their parents in some of the taller grass.

“Oh my god,” Louis says at the next patch of horses, “Look at all of those adults. Adult, adult, adult.” He has nowhere to hide when Harry reaches over to flick the side of his face, though he does try to swat at him in defense.

“Oh, baby,” Harry says a moment later and Louis groans.

He looks around anyway because he does enjoy seeing tiny animals. Both sides of the highway are deserted. “Where?” He asks.

Harry looks over, “Oh, sorry.” He shifts his hips in his seat and glances back toward the road, “I was having a moment.”

Louis shakes his head and then tries to hide his smile in his arm as he goes back to looking out the window.

*

Coming into Texas is more anticlimactic than Louis had anticipated though he can’t say what exactly he was expecting to happen when they crossed the border. There are two cowboys riding bareback on the highway and two bull skulls in a dried out field that both seem to be quintessential Texas occurrences. Harry tries to talk in a southern accent for a few minutes but the way he rounds his Chicagoan vowels overruns his Texas slur.

The earth is more scorched and the Oklahoma fields have turned into most bushlands but the desert hills are tri-colored like wet murals. The first big city they come across is the Cadillac Ranch of Amarillo Amarillo which, according to the itinerary in Louis’s lap, is exactly where they’re supposed to be.

Technically, it's nothing more than open land with ten old-school Cadillacs standing on their noses and half buried in the hardened, dried dirt but Louis also thinks its one of the things you have to see to believe.

“This is so cool,” Harry says with wide eyes, already trying to take off his seatbelt before he’s stopped the car.

There isn’t a formal parking area, or not that Harry is going to take the time to find, so they wander over to the line of cars from just off the highway. Each one is painted by passing tourists fancy and there are a smattering of spray paint can along the ground for people to use. Harry goes into paparazzo mode and Louis takes a few pictures with his phone, admiring the artistry in the completely random way it’s all been done.

It’s amazing the car can be covered and re-covered again, ever changing and evolving based on who has stopped by. Louis runs his hand along one bumper and tries to imagine the years of other designs beneath the top layer, the other so-called artists who have stood where he is. The collaborative effort it has taken to make the Cadillacs into eyesores in the Texan desert is incredible.

“This is so much cooler than a giant ball of paint,” Louis says when Harry starts taking up close shots of the car he’s looking at.

Harry smiles, taking a picture of Louis and then focusing on the cars again. “I agree,” he says from behind the camera. “Texas is better than Arkansas already.”

“Considering we didn’t go to Arkansas, it would be hard not to beat.” Louis grabs a can of spray paint from the dusty ground and shakes it around, the barbell rattling at the bottom.

“What are you going to paint?” Harry asks, finally taking the camera away from his face.

“I don’t know.” Louis chews his bottom lip and waves Harry away with his hand. “I don’t need you judging me while I do it.”

Harry laughs but backs away, stopping to pick up his own paint can.

“Don’t breathe in the fumes,” Louis calls after him. “You’re still on driving duty.” Harry is wearing sunglasses but, as usual, Louis is sure he rolls his eyes.

He gives it some brief thought but Louis can’t think of what to paint so he does a smiley face and feels like an uncreative loser. He does some jagged lines and a giant letter ‘L’ for good measure before he wanders off to find Harry.  

There are a few people at every car spray painting and taking photos - mostly families and then a group of sorority girls in lettered t-shirts climbing on top of one car for a group picture. Harry is at the last car, kneeling by himself, concentrating on whatever he’s painting with a focus Louis tends to lack in artistic endeavors. He watches him as he slows his pace, Harry’s eyes tracing the line of paint, one hand over the lens of the camera to make sure there’s no backspray into it. Louis takes a photo of him with his phone, trying to position it into a semi-artsy composition though he’s not sure he’d call himself a photographer yet.

He walks closer when Harry picks up a second bottle and starts retracing the line he just made with the first. The words “What are you making?” die before Louis even asks as he realizes what Harry is doing. He’s painted a heart with a black outline and he’s filled the center with the full spectrum of rainbow colors. Louis takes another photo without even thinking, taking another step closer.

“You’re making me feel inadequate,” Louis says when he realizes standing silently behind Harry is borderline creepy.

Harry jumps at his voice and then huffs a laugh as he stands up. He dusts off his knees and pushes his sunglasses higher on his nose. “The point is you don’t have to do anything anyone else does,” Harry says. “It’s all art.”

“Yeah, well, you’re over here making grand political statements while I wrote the first letter of my name like a three year old.”

Harry laughs again, shaking his head. He stoops down for another can of paint and shakes it. “Not a political statement,” Harry says quietly. “Just a human one.”

Louis watches in slight awe as Harry gets back in the position he was originally in before Louis interrupted and paints the word _love_ over the heart he’s just drawn. In the heart of Texas, surrounded by a ton of psychedelic cars, it feels a bit spiritual.

Harry finally drops the can and backs up to admire his work. “Cool,” he says happily, sniffing. “And I didn’t even get that high.”

Louis laughs and then nudges Harry with his arm. “You better take a picture before we go. That’s what the kids call Instagrammable content,” Louis says.

Harry’s laughter is pure light as he turns on his camera. “You know the word Instagrammable?”

“My sister runs a makeup blog, H. I’m very hip.”

Harry snorts and Louis nearly kicks his shin but contains himself as not to ruin Harry’s shot. Louis posts the photo he’s taken to his Instagram story while they walk back to the car. He tags Harry with the paintbrush emoji and feels very new age considering his typical Instagram stories.

Harry checks his phone when they get in the car and laughs quietly. “You tagged me in a Story but you didn’t follow me?” He glances over at Louis, “Should I be offended.”

Louis smirks. “You didn’t follow me.”

“You sure about that?” Harry asks with a knowing smile.

Sure enough, Louis gets notification from @HarryStyles and rolls his eyes. “You just have to one-up me every time, don’t you?” Louis slides his finger over the notification and follows Harry back before depositing his phone back in the cupholder.

“I do,” Harry says, starting the car. “If I don’t, I lose my superpowers.”

Harry is ridiculous. Louis likes it far too much.

*

They drive west for an hour or so until they come across a barbeque place Harry had seen on Instagram when he was preparing for the trip. Louis notes it’s absent from the notebook he’s holding.

“It didn’t make the itinerary?” Louis asks as they find a parking spot.

“We started late today,” Harry says. “We should be to Vega by now.”

“Ah, Vega,” Louis muses. “The lesser known sister to Vegas.” Harry gives him half of a laugh before getting out of the car.

Butch’s Bar-Be-Que is a red barn with red checkered table cloths that serves ribs and mason jars of  sweet tea. Louis and Harry share a rack of ribs with a plate of various barbecue sides and make a mess on their faces though they try to eat cleanly. There’s a bucket of individually packaged wet wipes they have to use to get all of the barbeque sauce off of them and Louis grabs a couple of extras just in case.

“The road can get messy,” he tells Harry. It makes him feel like his mom so he texts her to tell her he’s thinking about her. He’s long outgrown being homesick but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss her from time to time still.

The sunset is brilliant when they come back outside - the reds and oranges unimpeded by buildings or smog, endless beauty in almost every direction. Harry drives out of the parking lot of Butch’s only to pull off at a deserted gas station so they can get out and look at it without anything in the way.

“Doesn’t this make you want to live in the country?” Harry asks quietly. The world seems silent around them and Louis likes the idea that perhaps the whole world has stopped to watch the sunset.

“Back to this again?” Louis crosses his arms and leans against the side of the car. The day was warm but the night is slowly cooling around them.

Harry smiles. “I’m just saying. It’s so open. You forget there’s anything else happening around you.”

Louis nods in silent agreement. It feels like that tonight but it’s kind of felt like that for the last six days, too. It’s only been him and Harry intermixing with the nameless and faceless all around them. It feels like they’re living in their own personal bubble. Just the two of them. Louis has forgotten their even headed back to school - that classes and the future are lingering in a not so distant future. Right now, there’s just this. The sunset, Harry and Texas. It doesn’t seem like a bad deal.

*

“I have an idea,” Harry says once they’ve been driving for two hours west, the sky darkening quickly overhead.

“To get a hotel, I hope,” Louis says, turning to face him. Harry’s been driving like a man under the gun, blasting through the country roads on the way to New Mexico.

“We need to make up some time,” Harry says, ignoring Louis altogether. “So we should just take turns and drive over night. The other person can sleep when they aren’t driving and in the morning we’ll have made up all of the lost ground.”

Louis stares blankly at the side of Harry’s face. Harry notices the silence and laughs when he sees Louis is staring.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“We should just enjoy the extra time,” Louis says. “Not waste it by rushing around.”

“You just want to sleep in a bed.”

“So, sue me. Is that so wrong? Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I’m not in a hurry,” Harry says. “I just want to make up the time we lost so we can get back on track. If we don’t, we’re running half a day behind.”

“And that’s bad?” Louis thinks of their bubble and suddenly how rushed to get through it Harry seems to be.

“The itinerary is there for a reason, Louis,” Harry says. “I want us to use it.”

Louis would like to burn the itinerary but instead he says, “Alright. When you’re tired, give me the wheel.”

Harry’s smile is pleased and Louis looks away. Lo and behold, Harry is back to being annoying again.

*

  
  



	4. Day 7 & 8

[DAY SEVEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165175777024/day-six-hamburger-city-cadillac-ranch-el-reno)

Boise, Oklahoma

Around one in the morning is when Harry finally gives up the ghost and pulls to the dark shoulder to let Louis take over. They both pull on sweatshirts for the next shift as the darkness cools the air in the car and then Harry curls up in the passenger seat while Louis stretches his neck and gets ready to go.

The night is darker than usual as they drive - the winding highway and the desolate emptiness on the edges shrouded by a starless sky. There are thin clouds above that are keeping the stars hidden and everything feels eerie as Louis hums to the Sam Smith record he’s put on.

Harry snores softly every once in a while but mostly stays quiet and unmoving. Louis catches himself glancing over to notice the smoothness of his cheeks and rough line of his jaw, the way his lips curve together in a perfect Cupid’s bow. It’s all things he shouldn’t notice and he has to draw his attention back to the road a couple of times before he forgets where he is.

Harry confuses him. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in how Louis isn’t sure how to feel about him. Sometimes he thinks he’s developed a crush and sometimes he’s so annoyed he could push him carefully out of a slow moving car. He has so many questions and things he wants to know about him - his childhood stories and most embarrassing moment, the one thing he’s always wanted to do, his favorite ice cream. Louis wants to make him laugh, wants to make him happy. He wants that for all his friends but every time his mind flashes to the night before, in the bar, when they were so close it was nearly electric - he doesn’t think this is the same way he feels about the rest his friends.

That's the other thing confusing Louis – the conversation at the bar; the way they were talking, how open Harry was. If Louis is connecting it right, Matt is the reason Harry started to become so controlling of his day to day life. He’s the reason Harry had to try to get his life back on order. He’s the reason Harry is meticulous about schedules and not being thrown off course. He’s the reason spontaneous is now a foreign language to Harry’s ear.

Louis actually manages to sigh out loud in the space between two songs and he bites down on his lip in the hope Harry doesn't wake up from it.

It's just that he wants to know Harry better and maybe that's the double underline of the entire thing. He wants to know him _better_ ; he wants Harry to be as open with him again as he was last night. He likes him. Maybe that's the triple underline. Louis likes him, he wants to know him. He kind of wants to burn the itinerary and make Harry do something he hasn't planned but he hasn't gotten around to that yet.

He thinks it's the last thought that makes him do it. Maybe it’s the perfect storm of the safety in the cover of darkness, Harry's soft snores, and that damn itinerary that draws Louis's attention away from the road to a sign directing him to Vogel Canyon, Colorado in just two exits.

"Colorado?" Louis whispers, pursing his lips. As far as he knows, Colorado isn't anywhere in their plan - in Harry's plan. He tries to pull up his mental map of the southwest corner of America but the states closest to Texas just kind of blur in the way they always do for a kid from the north who spends his time on the west coast.

"Fuck it," he says as the next exit comes closer. He accelerates and steers to the diagonal, pulling the Jeep from the Route 66 heading west and going, instead, due North. Harry might just kill him when he realizes.

*

There are a couple of close calls as Texas fades behind them. Louis puts the new destination into his phone and turns it on silent, relying only on the flashing directions rather than the automated voice. It says it'll only take three and a half hours to get to Vogel Canyon as Louis stretches out his fingers from gripping the wheel so tightly.

If he thought he would get sleepy on his driving shift, the quick change in plans has certainly changed the tides. He feels wired the way he imagines a bank robber feels when they’re on the run. His grip on the wheel is tighter than it’s been before; his eyes aren't blinking in a normal cadence anymore. He tries to focus on the music - Fleetwood Mac now - but his mind is buzzing with an explanation he can give to Harry when they show up in Colorado. Maybe Harry will sleep until they get to Vogel Canyon and then he'll be so taken with the beauty he won’t even notice that it’s not New Mexico.

The flaw, of course, is Louis has never heard of Vogel Canyon before, and has definitely never seen what it looks like. It could be a dried up crater with no sign of life but he's not sure if it matters now since they're headed full speed ahead.

The route takes them over the border and back through Oklahoma though Louis hopes it's over a new corner of the state and he's not actually back tracking. As far as he knows, Colorado is more west than east and that's information he remembers from a high school geography course.

Harry wakes up briefly in Boise City, which, contrary to Louis's shock, is still in Oklahoma and not Idaho. Still, Louis stops breathing when he sees Harry lift his head and rub at his eyes. He stretches his neck and sits up in his seat, staring out the window for a couple minutes. It’s far too dark to make out the scenery.

"Do you need me to drive?" He asks; sleep still curling in his voice.

Louis smiles - its sweet Harry is offering though Louis is pretty sure he'd fall asleep behind the wheel if Louis took him up on the offer. "No," he says. He swallows and licks his suddenly dry lips. "I'm alright. You should sleep more. I'll wake you up," Louis lies. If he could give Harry a sleeping pill to not wake up until he actually wants him to, that would be ideal. Thankfully, Harry drifts off on his own, again.

Louis starts to get hungry - his body not used to running full speed ahead at three in the morning. They're close, though. The maps says only an hour and a half left which means it's definitely too late to turn back. Louis smiles to himself - he still doesn't have an excuse to give Harry but he's almost gotten away with his plan. He can show Harry that being spontaneous isn't always reckless - unless Harry murders him first.

The thrill is short lived as they cross into Colorado, the sky barely starting to lighten. Harry sits up again, running his hands over his face and then looking out the front window as he blinks drearily. He doesn't look as sleepy this time; he looks alert as he turns the music up slightly louder. Louis feels acid curling in his stomach. He tries to decide if it will be better for Harry to figure out where they are on his own or if Louis should say something. Maybe he should pull to Vogel Canyon and act like it was always in the plan – he vaguely wonders if that will work.

It turns out, whatever he thinks is best doesn't actually matter. He sees the sign before Harry at least, but it doesn't really help in the end. It's a billboard with a few mountains painted in the background with Welcome to Colorado in giant white cursive lettering over the top. Louis's eyes go wide and he tries to figure out what kind of distraction will make Harry stop from noticing. He's about to just scream loudly until they pass but Harry beats him to it.

"Colorado?" It's not a scream just Harry's rolling voice asking a question. A question Louis can't really answer or, at least, not in a way that makes it go away.

"Um, yeah," he says, not taking his eyes from the road. His hands are sweating and there's sweat between his shoulder blades, too; his sweatshirt is suddenly stifling.

Harry looks confused as he grabs Louis's phone and starts sliding his finger through the Maps app, clearly looking for something. Louis feels like he's just lit the end of a firecracker and the explosion is inevitable.

He feels the rush of too many memories of being a kid and getting ready to get caught for something he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Something like putting glue in his sister’s shampoo bottle or forging a doctor’s note so he didn’t have to take a math test. He learned then, and remembers the same now; it’s best not to stutter out half excuses in the beginning. The best course of action is to let the explosion happen and deal with the aftermath in the following smoke. Just like when he was a kid, he finds himself holding his breath as he waits.

“Louis,” Harry’s voice is low, a bit scary. “Why are we in Colorado?”

Louis clears his throat. “It’s - It’s on the way to Vogel Canyon, Harry.” It’s not a lie, that’s always a good way to start.

Harry nods and looks out the opposite window, the silence lingering. Louis thinks it’s too good to be true - that Harry is just going to take what he’s said at face value and shut up. It is too good to be true.

Harry looks back to Louis in slow motion and Louis grips the wheel harder. His voice is scary than before, lower and strained. “Why the fuck are we on the way to Volgel Canyon?”

Louis can only take the unpleasant exchange for so long before he needs to push things along a little further - light another spark. He rolls his eyes, “I thought it would be fun, okay? I thought it would be a good fucking adventure.”

“God dammit, Louis,” Harry actually yells this time. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“To you?” Louis raises his voice, too. “I’m not doing anything to you.” Where does Harry even get off thinking that Louis doing something fun is a personal attack? He’s about to ask but Harry is two steps ahead.

“You know I want to stick to the itinerary. You know that’s the whole basis of this trip is to go to the places I planned out and yet you keep trying to fuck it up. You keep trying to fuck me up.”

“Whoa,” Louis says, keeping his eyes on the road because yelling isn’t conducive to great driving. “Stop acting like everything is about you. Maybe I just don’t want to sit through another museum.” It’s not Louis’s best line, they haven’t been to a museum since the first day and he didn’t actually partake in that museum but he is operating heavy machinery and trying to fight with Harry so he gives himself a pass.

“We haven’t been to a museum in days,” Harry calls him out. “You just like to poke until things break, don’t you? I’ve told you over and over that I want to stick to an exact timeline and you keep fucking it up.”

“Everything I’ve chosen to do has been fun,” Louis says loudly before Harry can keep going. He may be wrong in going rogue and driving to Colorado but he’s not taking the blame for everything else. “You haven’t complained about one thing I’ve picked,” he raises his voice when Harry opens his mouth, “Except the beer nuts but now is not the time, Harry.”

Harry crosses his arms. “I should have known you were going to take over from the first day. You don’t respect boundaries.”

Louis doesn’t like that. He hates it, actually. He and Harry have been getting along so well and now it’s unraveling and their throwing barbs like all the brighter moments don’t even exist. “It’s not me,” he says, “It’s your incessant need to control things because of one fucked up relationship.” That’s too far - Louis knows when he says it. They bicker - it’s become a trademark of this road trip but they don’t make it personal, not usually.

“Stop the car,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“No,” Louis says, keeping his hands on the wheel and gripping so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“Stop the fucking car,” Harry says again, undoing his seatbelt.

“Why? So you can run down the freeway and get hit by a car?” Louis shakes his head, “No.”

“Because I can’t be in the car with you right now without saying something I regret,” Harry says, his voice cracking in the middle. “Please stop the car.”

Please really is the magic word or the emotion in Harry’s voice is too strong for Louis - whatever it is, Louis steers to the shoulder and presses the brake. He turns on the flashers but Harry is already out of the car before they even blink.

The door slams and it rings in the small space as Louis puts his forehead on the steering wheel. He’d decided on Vogel Canyon for no reason but to give Harry proof that spontaneity is fun. Now, sitting here, he’s not sure how he’s going to explain that to Harry. Not when Harry is under the impression Louis does these things to spite him, not when Louis tosses his secrets and insecurities back at him like they’re darts.

“Fuck,” he says out loud, slamming his hands on the wheel. He grabs the keys and gets out of the car. Harry may not be able to be in the car but hopefully the highway is big enough for the both of them.

Harry is by the back bumper, arms crossed and eyes narrowed when Louis turns the corner to face him.

The sky is clearer in Colorado so the stars are sparkles against the sky and the moon casts a gentle light, the low roll of daylight sending shadows over the highway. The flashing brake lights on the Jeep read like a warning.

“I’m sorry,” Louis' starts. In daylight hours, this freeway is probably loaded with heavy trucks and families heading on vacation. But for now it’s just them. “I’m sorry for coming to Colorado.”

Harry shakes his head, once quickly. “It’s not that,” he says.

Louis nearly snorts, he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t be having this conversation if he was pulling into the designated hotel in New Mexico.

“Okay,” Louis says. “I still apologize. It was wrong for me to make this decision.” He feels like an adult in a business meeting, not like he’s talking to the most intense and volatile crush he’s ever had.

“It’s not that,” Harry says again. “It’s that you keep throwing things at me.” He runs his hands back through his hair and then drops them both, unceremoniously to his sides. “Every time I think we’re getting along, you do something that makes me so mad. Why do you keep doing that?”

His stare is imploring but Louis can’t take it. He looks away for a moment. “Would you believe if I say I’m not doing anything to hurt you? When I said I wanted to get to know you, I did mean that.”

Harry stares silently for a beat. “Then why are we in Colorado? If you wanted to see me yell, there are other things to do.”

Louis shakes his head. “Believe me that was not the intention.” He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to figure out how to get his words in a coherent order. “Is the itinerary because of Matt?”

 _Fuck._ That is not what he thought he was going to say.

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry echoes Louis’s internal thoughts but much louder. “Why are you bringing that up? I didn’t tell you that so you could hold it over my head. I told you because we’re friends. Or that’s what I thought.”

“I’m not holding it over your head,” Louis says, just as loud. “I’m trying to understand you.”

“He’s not the reason for the itinerary,” Harry says. “He’s not the reason for anything - he’s just a guy who doesn’t mean anything.”

“You seem to be holding onto him pretty tight,” Louis says and immediately bites his tongue. He can’t seem to control his brain to mouth filter around Harry and it’s becoming a problem.

“I’m not,” Harry says and his face is cast red in the brake light, his eyes flashing just as dark. “It’s easier to say I almost failed out of college because I was in love than to say I was overwhelmed by my first real relationship and didn’t know how to control it, okay?”  

His chest is rising rapidly and Louis realizes he’s the one still holding his breath. He didn’t realize Harry had almost failed out of school - he thought he’d been distracted by his boyfriend. It’s clearly more serious than he’d thought.

“Yeah,” Harry says because Louis’s face must be betraying him. “I nearly threw away my chance at school and almost had to tell me parents I’d wasted their money because of a boy who I thought I loved, instead. Add that to your list of things you can use against me.” He throws his arms out wide, “Add that to the list of things you can yell at me for in the middle of a Colorado highway.”

“Harry,” Louis says all in a rush, “I’m not looking for things to use against you. Not at all. I really am just trying to get to know you. I’m not,” he lowers his voice, “I don’t want to yell at you on the side of the highway in Colorado.”

Harry shakes his head. “Then why are we in Colorado, Louis?” He sounds defeated and, god, this is not the way Louis wanted anything to go.

“I did it for you,” he says, shaking his head because it doesn’t sound like a gift anymore. “I thought you had the itinerary because you didn’t want to lose control and have it go badly. So I thought we could do this and I’d show you it was fun. That being spontaneous and out of control isn’t the worst thing. I did this to be nice.” He doesn’t think he’s breathed through any of his words and his lungs expand in a harried fashion.

Harry’s laugh is half chewed. “You did this for me?” He shakes his head, “Weird way you have of explaining yourself.”

Louis nods, “You didn’t react exactly how I’d intended. I certainly didn’t think this would happen.” He waves his hands around the highway to encompass the last ten minutes.

Harry looks at the ground and when he looks up his cheeks are pink in the moonlight. “I’m not very happy with you,” he says.

Louis nods, rolling his lips together. There’s a twist of wind around them and he pulls his hands into the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Yeah, I figured.”

“And I’m embarrassed,” Harry says, quieter.

Louis swallows, “Why’s that?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “I’m pretty sure I just threw a tantrum in the middle of nowhere Colorado for reasons that don’t exactly make sense.”

“No, they do,” Louis says quickly, taking a step forward. They’re both idiots but - that’s the thing, it’s both of them. “You make sense.”

Harry smiles, “You’d understand if you knew the way I felt about you.” His eyes go wide and he takes a step back to counteract Louis’s motion.

Louis doesn't breathe and his heart misses a beat. “What?”

Harry covers his face and groans. “I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

“What?” Louis takes two steps closer this time. “What are you talking about?”

The way he feels about Louis? He’s pretty sure he thinks Louis is annoying and a bit manipulative.

“Nothing,” Harry’s says, his voice muffled by his own hands. “Can we just forget this whole night happened?”

Louis certainly cannot take him up on that offer. “No,” he says, reaching for Harry’s wrists. He wraps his fingers around them, thumbs landing on the bony knobs. He tugs just slightly and Harry lets him, his hands falling back. This close, Louis can see his cheeks really are darker than the rest of his skin, his eyes cast somewhere off to the side. “What did you say?”

Harry looks back, eyes finally meeting Louis's, their face inches apart with the moon and stars dancing overhead. The sun is coming, Louis knows, and whatever moment they’re holding onto is fleeting. Louis tracks Harry’s gaze as it dips to his mouth and then back to his eyes. It’s like a reflex when Louis’s tongue slips over his bottom lip, a terrible reflex because Harry watches that too.

“What did you say?” Louis asks again. He leans in, barely but it’s enough to hear Harry’s intake of breath.

He doesn't know who moves first, wouldn’t be able to prove it in a court of law, but suddenly his lips are on Harry’s and they’re kissing in the middle of nowhere, Colorado. On a highway.

It’s like touching an electric fence, the way it goes. Louis exhales in a rush against Harry’s soft lips, the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rising to attention when their lips meet and their noses brush.

It’s over just as fast as touching an electric fence, too. Harry sighs right against Louis’s mouth and Louis jolts back like he’s been stung, three steps taking him to the other side of the Jeep. “Oh my god,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I did that.” He holds his hands up and covers his eyes briefly before he all but runs back to the car, his lungs banging in his chest in embarrassment.

He has just kissed Harry Styles for no reason other than Harry might have admitted he has feelings. Except he didn't, Louis tells himself more firmly. He said he felt a certain way but he didn’t specify whether it was a good or bad feeling. Harry kissed him back, though - he’s so sure of it until suddenly he isn’t.

“You’re an idiot, Louis Tomlinson,” he says out loud, meeting his eyes in the rear view mirror. “I know,” his reflection says right back to him.

He jumps when Harry opens the passenger door, feels like he’s about to have a heart attack. He can’t believe they kissed; he can’t believe they now have to sit in a car for another week and a half. Harry clips his seatbelt on and then sits perfectly still in the silence. Louis wants to get back out of the car and take a lap around the car just to take the edge off his shame. He’s such an idiot.

He clears his throat and starts the car; he knows how to drive, this he can do. “Ready?” He asks. Harry nods, absolutely silent otherwise. Louis nods back and eases back onto the empty highway.

It’s only two minutes later he realizes they’re still headed to Vogel Canyon with no plans of things to do, no idea of what Vogel Canyon actually holds, no idea if there’s a bed waiting for them in the next hour when they arrive. If he could go back in time, back to Route 66, he’d do it happily. If that meant taking back the kiss, taking back the tension settling between them where the center console is - he’d gladly give it all back. If it would get rid of the terrible weight sinking in his stomach, and erase all the ways this road trip has just been turned on its head.

“How far are we from the route?” Harry asks further down the road, the sky lighting up gradually around them. His voice sounds measured and easy while Louis feels like his vocal chords have been chopped. He clears his throat.

“We should be driving parallel to the 66,” Louis says. His geography skills aren’t fabulous but he’s figured out that much. “Parallel but three hours to the north.”

Harry nods and looks back out the window. Louis’s stomach is shaking and he hates it. He’s told Harry he did this for him, but Harry never agreed it was a good idea. Best intentions gone awry and now Louis feels like his words are lodged in his throat. Twenty minutes ago, when Harry asked if they could forget this all ever happened, Louis should have agreed. They should have turned around and left, they shouldn’t have kept going, certainly shouldn’t have let their lips touch.

“We can start driving diagonal right now and get back on track,” Louis says, pulse racing in his neck. He wants to make it better. “We’d only have lost a few hours.”

Harry looks over and his face is pleasantly blank, no daggers shooting from his eyes the way Louis has been picturing. “Or we go to Vogel Canyon and then loop to New Mexico tomorrow.” Louis’s shock must dance through his eyes, maybe his whole face. “I looked at the map,” Harry says, half a smile pulling on his lips. He clears his throat and the smile drops. “We’ll be almost perfectly above Santa Rosa, so it should be an easy drive.”

Louis squeezes the steering wheel with his hands and then releases. “Are you saying you want to keep going?”

Harry smiles, hesitantly. “Yeah. You said back there,” he licks his lips and Louis nods quickly - he knows where back there is, he doesn’t need a description. “You said you were doing this for me. Like, for fun.”

Louis nods, swallowing. “I really did. I knew it wasn’t part of the plan but I thought it would be an adventure. It’s turned out to be … Not exactly that.”

Harry nods once and then looks back toward the road. “It’s not over yet,” he says. There’s a lingering pause like he thinks he hasn’t made himself clear. “So, let’s keep going.”

Louis nods back just as surely and for the first time since he left Route 66, his heart starts to lighten.

*

Vogel Canyon is not, in fact, the dried up crater of Louis’s overactive imagination. It is a dry canyon but punctuated with greenery and endless blue skies, a few clouds reaching lazily from end to end but the sun keeping the morning pleasant.

“This is the most green we’ve seen in days,” Harry says once the canyon comes into view. They haven’t said much since the sun has come up, only a few words to finish out their drive. Everything feels raw the way it does after an explosion with no true end - like the dust is settling and they’re trying to remember their bearings, like they’re still walking on egg shells.

“And there’s a river,” Louis says, pointing out along a far wall of the canyon where a steady blue stream of water flows.

“Good choice for being spontaneous,” Harry says lightly. “Could have gone very wrong.”

 _As if it already hasn’t_. Louis keeps the thought to himself and smirks anyway. He still wouldn’t count them as out of the woods yet.

Vogel Canyon has a state park with cabins to rent and Louis parks in a guest parking spot with his stomach clenched with hope. Harry gets out of the car and stretches while Louis walks inside to the reception desk; throwing out a prayer to anyone listening that the park has vacancies.

It turns out there’s one cabin left and though it’s more expensive than any hotel they’ve stayed in thus far, Louis hands his credit card over without hesitation.

“You’ll be in Lover’s Lane,” the woman behind the desk says with a sweet smile. “It’s two rows of cabins behind this one. Not too hard to miss.”

“Lover’s Lane?” Louis asks, taking the keys from her outstretched hand.

“They’re usually rented out on honeymoons and stuff,” she says.

Someone, somewhere, in the sky clearly has a sick sense of humor. Louis smiles over his shoulder as he leaves, already deciding not to share the name of their cabin with Harry.

“There are still two beds, right?” He asks right at the door leading back to the parking lot.

“Two bedrooms and two bathrooms, yeah,” she says. She doesn’t offer an explanation for how that’s conducive to a honeymoon cabin and Louis definitely doesn’t ask.

“Did they have any openings?” Harry asks over a yawn as Louis comes back outside. He’s sitting on the hood of the car looking as tired as Louis feels.

“One left,” Louis says, holding up the key.

Harry smiles, “Awesome. I picked up a brochure of things to do.”

Louis raises his eyebrows because _of course_ Harry found a brochure. He bites down on his comment - it’s still too soon to be taking swipes at each other again, even teasing ones.

“Did you?” He says, getting back in the Jeep. Harry follows quickly.

“Do you like horses? I thought horseback riding could be fun.”

Louis doesn’t particularly enjoy horses that much but there’s a tinge of excitement to Harry’s voice and that’s what this part of the trip was supposed to be about anyway - before things got so complicated.

“That sounds fun,” he says with a smile.

“Plus there’s a cafe located in the center of all the cabins,” Harry says. “I was thinking we could get breakfast and then maybe nap. Do horses in the afternoon?”

Louis’s lips twitch despite himself. “Have it all planned out, do you?”

Harry’s reaction is immediate, his lips parting to either offer an excuse or tell Louis off - Louis wants neither.

“I’m kidding,” Louis says quickly. “That’s a good plan.”

Finding the cabin isn’t difficult at all - Louis finds the parking with the corresponding key number and the small wooden cabin just beyond. There’s a painted sign that says, “Lover’s Lane,” leading to the front but if Harry notices it, he doesn’t comment.

“There are two rooms,” Louis says as they let themselves in. “Moving on up from our little motel rooms.”

“And those had been going so well,” Harry says with a half-smile.

They really have, Louis thinks. They’ve spent almost a week sleeping less than five feet apart. Having their own rooms, though, the privacy, is something he’s already looking forward to.

The two rooms share a wall but the beds are both generously sized so no one has a complaint. They both put their bags down and then wander back out to find the cafe, Harry holding up the giant map in front of his face like a tourist on the loose.

*

Breakfast is quiet and though Louis could say it’s awkward, he really thinks they’re just tired. He hasn’t slept all night and Harry slept in fits - his subconscious was probably trying to keep him awake to warn him of Louis’s chosen path.

The cafe is quaint and out of place for a cabin but the food is good and their waitress doesn’t have too many questions. She’d probably have more if she knew they were staying in Lover’s Lane. Louis is definitely not going to mention that.

They walk back to the cabin in another quiet daze both agreeing to be up and ready after lunch for the late afternoon horse ride down to the river. There was an entire menu of kinds of horse rides being offered but Louis just had Harry pick the one he thought sounded best. Harry took his job seriously, reading over the list while sipping a glass or orange juice and then deciding on the one next to the river.

Shutting the door to his room and having the room completely to himself is a welcome reprieve and Louis can’t help the excited flutter in his stomach as he strips to his boxers and slips between the cool sheets. He doesn’t even get a chance to dwell over everything sitting between him and Harry - for the first time he can ever remember, he’s asleep before his head even hits the pillow.

*

Louis wakes up sweating, and hard. He forgets where he even is, his mind still chasing the edge of a dream. He can’t pinpoint a thing about it other than it being dark and Harry being there. That’s all he’s got and now he’s painfully stiff in his boxers and sharing a wall with the object of that same lust. It’s amazing how much the world hates him sometimes.

He rolls onto his stomach and squeezes his eyes shut to will the boner away but that doesn’t work - not with the pressure of the mattress adding the friction he desperately wants. When he closes his eyes all he sees is Harry’s lips, all he feels is Harry’s lips on his. Their quasi-kiss couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds but Louis’s mind is intent on stretching it out like taffy in his memory.

“Fuck,” he huffs as he rolls onto his back. He kicks off the blankets and shoves his hand down the front of his boxers, hissing when he finally gets a grip on his cock. His hand feels so good his eyes almost roll back in his head - and that’s saying something considering he’s gotten bored of his hand too many times over the last year. He hasn’t properly gotten off since they started on the road trip except for quick mornings in the shower which have been more out necessity than pleasure.

Not now - he thinks as presses his boxers down his thighs. He’s going to savor it and have some fun, make good use of the full wall and door. He shivers as he thumbs over his tip and back down, his back already arching just slightly.

He closes his eyes and lets the visions of Harry come without filter. He doesn’t even try to fend them off for some other wank-worthy mental material - not when his stomach is already clenching in anticipation.

It’s all over quickly - embarrassingly fast and sooner than he anticipates. He wants to blame the time since his last orgasm but he thinks the blame rests solely on one person’s shoulders – their green eyes and pink, pink lips in particular.

He’s not even mad, as he lays there - come cooling on his stomach and his chest rattling with his breath. He feels like a fresh can of soda - fizzing from his toes to his fingers. He’s pretty sure this is the best nap he’s ever taken.

*

Harry is awake already when Louis stumbles out of his room an hour later. He may have dozed until he got hard again and then doubled his pleasure for the day before taking a leisurely shower in the en suite and pulling himself off just one more time. Not that anyone ever needs to know that.

Harry is sitting at the breakfast nook Louis didn’t take the time to notice on the first or second time he walked inside the cabin. Harry is reading a book and wearing what must be his riding gear of tight black jeans, white Nike shoes and a grey t-shirt. There’s an apple and a water bottle next to his arm and his hair is only half-dry, curling around his ears.

He looks up when he hears Louis coming, his smile loose and relaxed. “Good morning,” he says.

He sounds a bit too cheerful for Louis not to be suspicious, though maybe Harry enjoyed his alone time the same as Louis did. Louis almost trips walking down the hallway at that - the thought of both of them getting off with a paper thin wall between them is too much for his sex drenched brain to process.

“Morning,” Louis says, recovering before his mind goes too far off track. “Did you buy a snack?” He asks, gesturing at Harry’s water and half-eaten apple.

“The fridge is fully stocked,” Harry says happily. He takes a crunchy bite from his apple. “It’s all sex snacks though, beware.”

This time Louis does trip and then catches himself on the counter. “Sorry, what?”

“It’s all the food you’re supposed to use to refuel after sex,” Harry says, smiling as he chews the hunk of apple he’s pulled off. “Like chocolate milk, cheese, apples, bananas.”

Louis opens the refrigerator hesitantly and Harry is right on the money - everything in there is easily accessible finger foods and straight out of a high school health textbook.

“It could just be for after hiking and stuff,” Louis says reasonably, getting out his own apple and a carton of chocolate milk. “You need to refuel the same way, you know.”

“Is that why my bathroom was fully stocked with three kinds of condoms and fourteen different kinds of lube?”

Louis’s eyes go wide and he splutters through a laugh, clueless where to start. “Fourteen kinds of lube?” It seems as reasonable of a beginning as any. He runs water over his apple to clean it as Harry laughs.

“All sorts of flavors, heating, cooling, everything you could think of. There were doubles of ones that were half-used. Like I was going to use the same one as some stranger,” Harry rolls his eyes, “Yeah, right.”

Louis stares hard at his apple, drying it with a paper towel in repeated motions. Thinking of Harry getting off is enough, thinking of Harry with lube and making a real mess out of things is far too much for Louis to deal with coherently.

“I mean, like, theoretically,” Harry says. He bites his apple and refuses to make eye contact. “If I were to use it, I meant.”

“Right,” Louis says with a definite nod. He bites hard on his apple and chews with his gaze out the window on the side of the cabin.

“It is Lover’s Lane,” Harry says, looking up from his lap when Louis looks over. He grins widely and Louis laughs, shaking his head. So he _did_ notice the obnoxious sign out front. There’s a bubble of tension that’s been between them since dawn and it’s slowly deflating, punctuated with sex jokes and laughter. Louis will take what he can get.

*

Once he’s changed into his own horse riding attire - black jeans, Adidas, and a long sleeved white shirt with a heart embroidered on the front pocket - Louis leads the way to their horseback riding adventure. Or, Harry leads the way via his tourist map and Louis walks two steps ahead of him.

They get a quick lesson in riding from someone in actual riding pants with a fancy jacket and then they’re climbing onto their assigned horses along with twelve other people in the group. Harry can’t stop smiling and Louis tries to match his spirit, though being up on the horse and looking down at the ground doesn’t make him feel very steady.

Their instructor goes over the basic lessons again and Louis tries to follow though Harry is a weary distraction. It’s not even his face pulling Louis’s focus this time but the way he keeps petting his horse and leaning forward to whisper in his ear. He keeps kissing the top of the horse’s head and it’s impossibly adorable even if the horse probably thinks it’s a wayward fly.

The path down to the river is narrow and Louis ends up behind Harry but near the middle of the group. It’s uncomfortable to get used to the hitch in the horse’s step but it becomes easier as the ride goes along, Louis even reaching up to pet his horse the way Harry was earlier. The greenery around them is mostly evergreen but there are some trees changing color slowly. Harry has his camera around his neck as always and takes a few pictures in passing though he keeps one hand on his horse while he does it.

Mostly, it takes everything Louis has not to stare at Harry’s ass. It’s enough his ridiculous long legs are straddling a horse but his tight jeans don’t help, neither does the roll of his hips when he tries to match the pace of the trotting horse. It makes Louis feel like coming three times in one afternoon was just not enough.

They break into a field after the more narrow paths and Louis is saved from watching Harry’s thighs flex since there is more room for them to walk next to each other.

“Did you ever want a horse as a kid?” Harry asks when Louis shows up next to him. He kisses behind the horse’s right ear and then rubs the spot with his fingers.

“No,” Louis says, “I was much more interested in a skateboard. All my sisters though, horses and unicorns were right on the top of every wish list.”

Harry smiles, “My sister asked for a horse and my parents got her a stuffed one. She was not impressed.”

Louis laughs and adjusts his grip on the stirrups. The horses are mostly grazing but still moseying along toward the river at a slow gait. “I can’t believe parents are allowed to pull that shit. There should be some sort of rule against that.”

Harry smirks, “I think that’s exactly the kind of dad I’ll be, though. A balance of unconditional love and relentless teasing.”

“I could see that,” Louis says, narrowing his eyes and nodding. “What about you? Did you ever want a horse?”

Harry shakes his head, “No.”

“Were you one of those realistic kids who asked for school supplies for Christmas?”

Harry’s laugh is so loud and abruptly, a couple of other people look over at them. Louis fights his own smile, his lips twitching. It should be weird between them - it should be uncontrollably awkward considering they kind of kissed overnight and still haven’t mentioned it. Not that he’s going to be the one to bring it up, but still. Things shouldn’t be this easy.

“I asked for a trip to the moon, actually,” Harry says, a smile still playing on his mouth. “I thought I wanted to be an astronaut, I also didn’t realize how tricky it was to get to the moon.”

Louis scrunches his nose, “Yeah, that’s quite a difficult ask, isn’t it?”

Harry nods. “I was devastated, obviously.”

“Is that why you gave up being an astronaut?”

“No, I hate science,” he says. “I love space and the idea of floating and seeing all the stars up close, touching the moon. But doing an actual equation to get there or explaining gravity? I’d rather gag.”

“Ah, well, dream big then,” Louis says, laughing.

*

The water comes into view just shortly after and the horses all stop like they’ve been trained for this exact moment. Their instructor tells them all to dismount for a break and to let their horses get water. Louis’s stomach swoops as he slides to the ground because his legs feel like jelly.

Their horses go to the water on their own, so Harry takes pictures while Louis finds a dry patch of grass to sit on, stretching his legs in front of him, his head tipped back toward the sun. Harry joins him eventually, sitting a foot away and going through his pictures silently. Louis hears the telltale click of Harry’s camera and opens one eye to find the lens pointed at him. He holds out his palm and Harry turns away, laughing.

“You’re going to end up with too many pictures of me and nothing to do with them,” Louis warns, dropping his hand as Harry secures the lens back on his camera.

“I’ve put a couple on my blog already,” Harry says. He laughs when Louis frowns. “You’re just as much part of this trip as the giant totem poles and upside down Cadillacs.”

“The most exciting part,” Louis teases, closing his eyes again.

“Definitely keeping me on my toes,” Harry says.

Louis cracks an eye open but Harry isn’t looking at him this time, his face tilted back toward the sun like a flower. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he says, dusting his palms.

Harry hums and Louis openly stares while he waits for further explanation. It doesn’t come and even if it was going to - the moment is called off by the instructor telling them to get back on their horses for the ride back.

Louis doesn’t press Harry for an answer after that. He’s still replaying what Harry said on the side of the highway - _if you knew how I felt about you_ \- and now this non-answer of a hum is going to join that rotation. It’s easier for Louis to analyze Harry than it is to analyze what his obsession with the way Harry feels might truly mean.

*

Once the horses are all back in their stables, Louis and Harry venture down to the edge of the canyon and find a good place to sit and observe the scenery. Harry takes pictures for a while and the only sound around them is the dull click of Harry’s camera. Louis might be starting to find comfort in the sound.

After, they find a small loop of street vendors selling food and they both get tacos to eat on a picnic bench near their cabin. They split a pot brownie once they finish just for the sake of being in Colorado where marijuana is legal and also because Louis thinks they deserve a bit of legal drug use after the last twenty-four hours. There’s barely enough weed to affect them more than a pleasant sleepiness as they make their way back to the cabin.

They watch a couple of reruns of Jersey Shore before Pretty Woman comes on. Louis would usually change the channel without questions but Harry makes a low, pleased sound when Julia Roberts comes on the screen so he doesn’t. They talk aimlessly throughout the movie both of their words starting to slow as they get more tired. Harry is the one to go to bed first though Louis follows soon after.

There’s no television in the bedrooms so he settles himself with watching the stars out his window, knowing Harry is doing the same thing on the opposite side of the wall. As Louis drifts to sleep, he still can’t believe they made it the entire day without talking about the kiss, about whether anyone liked it or it was a massive mistake. Louis knows his answers, at least.

He tries not to be bothered Harry didn’t mention it or even allude to the fact it happened. It’s only when Louis is barely hanging onto wakefulness he realizes what’s bothering him the most is that he’s the one who stopped it. He’ll never get the chance to know what would have happened next, where things would have gone after Harry sighed against his lips. The disappointment curling in his stomach puts him soundly to sleep.

*

**[DAY EIGHT](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165319928944/day-eight-blue-hole-santa-rosa-new-mexico-x-x) **

Vogel Canyon, Colorado

 

Louis wakes up naturally around eight and prays it’s only the excess amount of sleep he got the day before, not him catching on to Harry’s routine. He takes a shower and gets dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt, well aware they have to make up some driving ground today.

Harry’s door is firmly shut when he steps into the hallway. Louis decides to let him sleep, wandering into the kitchen to eat a variety of sex snacks for breakfast while he waits for Harry to get up. He only pities himself a little bit that he’s not actually had sex in Lover’s Lane and is now eating sex snacks by himself.

Eight rolls slowly into nine and Louis gets a bit antsy. He turns on the morning news and turns it off almost immediately when he feels a subtle wave of anxiety. He looks up the best route to Santa Rosa from here and then browses around some of the more touristy things - pretty positive that’s what Harry is going to make him do.

There’s still no sign of Harry.

It’s an accident when it happens, really. Louis walks down the hallway to see if Harry has woken up, or maybe gotten in the shower. He stands perfectly still outside his door listening for any movement which is when he hears the one sound that changes the rest of his life.

Harry moaning.

It’s a choked off breathless sound but Louis recognizes it immediately. Harry is definitely awake and definitely on the edge of coming. Louis hears the same sound again but lower and he rushes backward, tripping into his room and slamming the door, his heart beating fiercely.

He holds his breath when he hears Harry’s door click open and then gasps out loud when the door shuts again. He probably heard Louis and just checked to see if the coast is clear because now he’s finishing himself off. Louis’s imagination is a runaway train and he sees flashes of Harry biting his lip, Harry twisting his hand and thumbing over a pearl of precome, Harry biting into his forearm as he orgasms.

“Stop it,” Louis says pointedly to his dick, now chubbing up with all the help in the world from his illustrious mind. “Stop it.”

Louis’s blood pays him no mind and all rushes toward his crotch in a hurry, leaving him with a boner from just his imagination - unfortunately not for the first time in the past twenty-four hours. This must be why god hasn’t allowed them to have separate rooms on the road trip so far - they’re incapable of respecting their privacy without jerking themselves blind.

Louis palms over himself just to take the edge off. He’s not sure what good it’s going to do when he actually has to see Harry in the next few minutes. See what he looks like in an orgasmic haze - if his lips are bitten red or his cheeks are flushed.

_God dammit._

Louis strips off his clothes in a hurry and walks into the shower while it’s still cold, one hand already on his cock. Maybe they were never supposed to kiss, never be more than almost-friends, but someone definitely forgot to send that memo to his sex drive.

*

Louis ends up being the late one after his second orgasm of the morning, though he tries to scramble back into his clothes quickly when he hears Harry moving around in the hallway.

“Late start?” He asks Harry when he makes his way into the kitchen.

Harry is sitting at the nook with a plate of sliced apples and cheese, munching happily on his own sex snacks. He’s wearing an electric pink sweatshirt and faded blue jeans, his socks covered in tiny rainbows. “Felt like catching some extra sleep, yeah. Sorry.”

 _Liar._ Louis smiles with closed lips. “No worries, I needed the extra snooze time anyway,” Louis lies right back to him. He gets a water bottle out of the fridge and thinks Harry’s skin might be glowing, his eyes may be brighter. _Get it together, Tomlinson._ He drinks almost the entire water bottle in one breath before his imagination can really get going again.

“Let’s get on the road,” he says when he can breathe after swallowing. “Someone detoured and now we have ground to make up.”

A flicker of shock crosses Harry’s face at Louis’s demand but it slips away into a smile. “My, my how the tables have turned,” he crows, popping his last apple piece into his mouth. “And I’m the one with the stick up my ass.”

“I never said that,” Louis says, _out loud_ , he adds silently.

“Yeah but you’ve thought it,” Harry winks and crumples the paper towel he was using as a plate. Louis rolls his eyes but Harry’s good mood may as well be infectious because he cracks a smile anyway.

*

“We’ve got a four hour drive,” Louis announces as they pile their bags into the car.

“And you should drive it,” Harry says, shutting the back door. “Since you got us into this mess.”

Louis narrows his eyes; he certainly wouldn’t call their day in Colorado a mess though it did have the aspects that were a bit sloppier - the fucking kiss - than others. “Fair enough,” he says.

If they’re back to teasing, he’ll handle it. It’s better than silence, better than tension. Better than how Louis spent half of yesterday alternating between orgasming to visions of Harry and wondering what it would be like to kiss his stupid lips again.

Harry pauses, the corner of his lips turning up. “I’m kidding,” he says. “You drove last night. I’ll do it.”

Louis rubs his finger over the edge of the key. “Are you sure? I really can. It’s not a big deal.”

“Self-sacrifice is such a lovely trait,” Harry says, smiling fully. “But I’m really more about sharing.” He takes the keys from Louis without another word and gets in the driver’s seat.

Louis isn’t sure what Harry was getting at with his last words - if he’s the one imagining the sexual innuendo there.

“Probably,” he answers himself out loud as he walks to the other side of the Jeep.

“What?”

Louis looks up to see Harry has both of the windows rolled down. He barely suppresses an eye roll. “Nothing,” he says, “Just talking to myself.” At least this time, it’s not a lie.

*

Southeastern Colorado is flat and dry and then steadily more green and hilly until they crossover until New Mexico and the most oasis-looking scenery they’ve seen thus far.

“It’s so green,” Harry comments as they follow along a curved part of the road, evergreens on both sides.

“Well now you’ve fucking jinxed it,” Louis says just as the landscape turns back into drylands and scrub brushes.

Harry laughs like he can’t believe it. “Whoops.”

It continues on like that through New Mexico though the greener parts start to stretch on a bit longer and the deserts aren’t nearly as barren.

They take a lazy attempt at the license plate game and then start in on twenty-one questions which is more difficult than they anticipate when Harry can’t decide on a question and Louis loses count of how many questions he’s asked.

“There’s a game my sister and I used to play when we went on road trips to our grandparents house,” Harry says when twenty-one questions goes south.

“What was it?” Louis asks as he blows on the black coffee they got at a gas station.

Harry puts his own coffee in the cup holder and shrugs. “Don’t think it had a name. But everyone would get words from different signs and then say them in order.”

Louis looks over. “What order?”

“Alphabetical,” Harry says like it’s obvious. “So you would see ‘Available’ on a billboard so you get a point and then I see ‘Black’ on a sign so I get a point. And you go through the alphabet.”

Louis looks out the window and sees a Walmart and then a whole lot of nothing. He glances back at Harry.

“Or not,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “You look like I just told you to cut your own ear off, by the way.”

Louis cracks a smile and runs his fingers over his lips. “Maybe that’s just what my face looks like, you know.”

“It’s not,” Harry says, too quickly to not be suspicious. Louis raises his eyebrows and Harry blushes. “You have a good face,” he says without letting his words betray the pinkness of his cheeks. “That’s all I’m saying.”

Louis smiles out the window, unsure what he’s really supposed to say to that. “You have a good face too,” he manages as a delayed response a full two minutes later. Sometimes Harry makes him feel like he’s experiencing his first crush all over again - stumbling over his words. Louis clears his throat and turns the music back up louder. “Maybe that’s enough road trip games for now,” he says.

“If you’re scared of a little competition,” Harry says dismissively, a smile biting at his lips.

Louis just sighs and puts his feet up on the dashboard. Harry doesn’t even try to make him stop.

*

Nearly five hours after they leave Vogel Canyon with only a stop for coffee and a subsequent bathroom stop, the slight desert gives way to oasis and endless blue water in Santa Rosa, New Mexico. The clear skies overhead make the water seem more blue, barely rippling with the winding standing still.

“Gorgeous,” Louis whispers without really thinking about it, carefully trying to take everything in at once. He looks over at Harry to see a self-satisfied smile and he laughs. “Why do you look like that?”

“This is the first thing I’ve chosen to visit that you actually seem impressed by,” Harry says, slowing the Jeep into the parking alcove of an overlook spot.

“That’s not true,” Louis says quickly, though it may very well be. He hasn’t done a great job of hiding his distaste for most of the places they’ve stopped at along the way, though he hopes Harry doesn’t think he’s hated every minute.

“Don’t worry, I know you warm up to all of it eventually,” he says. There’s no intent in his voice as he smiles and pulls the key from the ignition.

The overlook is a good spot to take the entire lake in, a few abandoned docks and a swath of tourists at the far edge. The sky is blue in every direction and the rolling fields around the lake seem to go uninterrupted for miles. Even with tourists nearby, Louis feels like they’re completely alone on the edge of the earth.

“What’s your plan?” Louis asks, more than sure there Harry has one.

“This is all we’re doing today,” Harry says quietly as though to preserve the silent moment around them. “And driving to Santa Fe tonight,” he adds.

He’s surprised there is no touristy catch for once. “We’re just hanging out at the lake?”

Harry smiles, “Yeah. I say we get lunch and go there.” He points to one of the abandoned docks on the other side. “Pretend the entire lake is ours.”

For once, Louis can’t think of anything he’d rather do.

*

They end up buying sandwiches and chips at a small convenience store near the dock Harry pointed out and then backing the Jeep as low toward the lake as they can. Which means Louis covers his eyes when Harry throws the Jeep in reverse and accelerates backwards toward the water.

In Harry’s trunk of endless wonders, he has beach towels they spread out on the dock and then they take turns using the backseat as a dressing room to change into swim trunks. Louis applauds when Harry climbs out of the car which earns him a narrowed eye glare.

“What?” Louis says, trying to conceal his smile. “I can’t imagine navigating your giraffe legs was easy to do in such a confined space.”

Harry’s lips pop into a perfect pout that Louis barely notices once his gaze falls to just how short Harry’s bright blue swim shorts are. He has a tattoo in the middle of his thigh that Louis is seeing for the first time and makes him go a bit cross-eyed. Harry is smirking when Louis regains his composure and Louis heads for their almost-changing room without another word. Harry thinks he’s shy but he certainly knows what he looks like, definitely knows it works to his advantage in every possible way.

They eat their lunch out on the dock and then Harry dives into the water while Louis stretches out to take a nap. He’s sure he’ll be sunburnt by the time he wakes up but the warmth is far too tempting to stay awake. Harry splashes water at him twice; his laughter echoing each time Louis flinches at the impact. Eventually, though, Harry pulls his body up onto the dock and lays down on his own beach towel quietly.

“This is what having kids must be like,” Louis says without opening his eyes. “Incredibly annoying until they lay down to take a nap.”

“Did you just refer to me as your kid?” Harry asks incredulously. Louis doesn’t have to look over to see the facial expression he must be making.

“Don’t make it weird,” Louis says. He lays his hands over his ribs and starts to fall asleep to the lull of his own breathing.

He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep - if he’s even made it to sleep fully - when Harry’s, “Oh my god,” startles him into a half sitting position.

“What?” He asks, though Harry is in too much of a hurry to pay attention, scrambling up on his feet and then running for the Jeep. Louis glances around for imminent danger and then stretches his arms up in the air to work out the kinks in his back. Before he can decide between going back to sleep and following Harry, he sees Harry walking back down from the car holding something clear in his hand.

“I forgot about this,” he says, grinning wildly in a way that makes Louis smile too. He’s helpless to it.

“What is it?”

“You put it on your phone and then you can take pictures underwater.”

Louis’s smile slips slightly. “H, that sounds like a scam.”

Harry shakes his head as he sits back on his towel. “It’s not.”

Harry sound so sure about his contraption while Louis is pretty sure they’re going to have to buy a bag of rice to dry Harry’s phone out on their way to Santa Fe.

While Harry puts his phone in the plastic holder, Louis finds himself staring down at Harry’s ankles, the inked words along the front of them. He drags his eyes slowly up to Harry’s thigh to study the tiger tattoo again, his lip drawing under his teeth as he looks at the subtle lines and shading. Harry has a lot of random ink - all on display at the moment, too. Louis wants to know what every piece means, whether there’s a meaning or not. He wants to know what made Harry get them and what one is his favorite.

“Got it.”

Louis pulls from his wayward thoughts with a physical jolt, focusing back on Harry’s hands. His phone is secure in the plastic container and there’s a plastic covered cord reaching from inside the phone to Harry’s hand with a button for taking photos. It looks like a Dollar Tree purchase and Louis is a bit worried about it.

“Are you sure?” He asks as Harry knee walks to the edge of the dock.

“Guess I’ll find out,” Harry says just before diving off the edge with his phone in hand. Louis pinches the bridge of his nose - being this infatuated with Harry cannot be good for his health.

Harry pops up a few feet from the dock with a grin, his wet hair falling in his face. “I think it works.”

“Can you even see?” Louis glances into the water. It is bluer, by contrast, than a lot of lakes he’s visited but it’s still dark toward the bottom.

“You can see the sun’s reflection,” Harry says, smiling like he can’t stop. “Come in, I’ll show you.”

Louis sighs. “I’m enjoying the sun from up here right now.”

Harry’s smile dims. “You’re the one who always says I’m boring -”

“I’ve never said that,” Louis intones loudly.

“You’ve implied it,” Harry says with a tilt of his head. “And I’m trying not to be boring. I’m trying.”

There’s something so earnest in the way he says it, Louis wants to fling himself off the dock. “You don’t need to try to be anything,” Louis says because he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you are.”

Harry nods, “I think there are some things about me that I’ve forgotten about. Things I used to like I forgot in the process of trying to control everything.” He makes it sound like he’s thought about this longer than one afternoon and it seems stark and serious for their current position.

“Things like taking underwater pictures?” Louis says with a smirk.

Harry smiles softly, “Exactly that.” He flicks some water up toward Louis and it splatters across his chest. “So, please come in with me. Please.”

Louis is lost before he even sets his sunglasses on the dock and makes a move to get in the water. As if he could say no to a smile like that.

*

Louis has no idea if the camera works. They won’t know until they get out of the water but he can’t stop using it once he dives in with Harry and steals the things from him. He swims up from under Harry and then takes a shot half in the water and half out, Harry’s mouth wide open as he goes to say something. The water is so clear in Blue Hole he can see Harry when they swim under and see the shape of him when he floats on top.

Harry takes it back eventually and starts taking pictures of his own, diving down to the bottom of the lake and then coming up gasping for air. They float around on their backs when they get tired of the camera and talk about things that don’t matter like whether chunky peanut butter is better than smooth and who their first celebrity crushes were. It’s all stupid - and normally Louis would be the first to point it out. Somehow floating in an empty lake with Harry makes it all seem too important to miss.

The entire afternoon is a mix of the same: snacking, dozing, photography, and swimming in an endless cycle. There’s a certain twilight zone vibration to the entire thing, like he’s sitting under a wave and waiting for it to crash over him. There has to be a crash coming, he thinks. They can’t just act as though nothing happened between them.

“What are you thinking about?” Harry asks as he pulls himself out of the water again.

“What?” Louis lifts his head from studying the lines he was drawing on his beach towel with his finger.

“You have your thinking face on,” Harry says, nudging his face toward Louis’s. “I’ve had a lot of time to figure out your different faces and moods.” He plops back down on his towel like he hasn’t said something slightly startling.

“Oh have you?” Louis asks, smirking. “You think you know me?”

“No,” Harry says easily. “But I think I’d like to.”

Louis pulls his knees up and settles his forearms over them, looking out over the lake and he can feel Harry looking at him. He can’t figure out how Harry gets away with saying things like that - with making everything sound like a simple request.

Louis exhales slowly. “What would you like to know?” In the quiet that lingers he turns to look Harry.

Harry is mirroring him, his knees pulled up under his chin, eyes cast over the water. As if he can feel Louis’s gaze, he looks over. “What?”

Louis smiles into the side of his arm. “I asked you a question.”

“I’m thinking,” Harry says, blinking slowly. “Give me a second, here.”

Louis’s lips twitch and he looks back out over the water, waiting.

“The guy who broke your heart,” Harry says slowly, “What did he do?”

Louis looks back so quickly his neck almost tweaks. “I thought you’d want to know my biggest fears or something.”

Harry smiles and lays the side of his head on the top of his knees. “Maybe later.”

Louis rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. “It was all kind of fucked up in the end. His parents didn’t want him to have a boyfriend and he took them up on it. Kind of left me in the dust in the process.”

“A boyfriend because it was romantic or a boyfriend because you’re a guy?”

Louis glances over; Harry’s more perceptive than he lets on. “Because I have a dick.”

“I see,” Harry says, tapping his fingers where they rest over his calves. “And you haven’t dated anyone else since that?”

Louis is so confused where this line of questioning is headed but he goes along anyway. “No. I don’t really date anymore. I think staying unattached is easier, honestly.” It sounds as lonely as it is, but he keeps that part to himself.

“What would it take?” Harry asks quietly. “What would it take for you to date someone seriously again?”

Louis can’t hold Harry’s eyes anymore and follows a broken line in the dock to the water. “It would take someone I couldn’t imagine not getting to spend more time with,” he says. “Someone who I knew - whatever happened - it would be worth it.”

Right when Louis thinks Harry is done talking, he says something more.

“You’d tell them?” Harry asks, “You’d tell them if you thought they were important enough to be serious with?”

Louis’s eyebrows pull together, no longer following. Harry licks his lips.

“When you find someone you want to be serious about,” he says, “You’ll tell them, right? You’d tell them no one else has made you feel that way and they’re so important you’ll change everything?”

Louis nods his head; it’s not something he’d ever thought about. In all honestly, he’d written that sort of thing off already. “Yeah,” he settles on finally. “I think I would.”  

Harry is quiet for a moment. “I thought Matt was the end of the earth but I never was that for him. He didn’t want anything serious and I threw everything I had at him until I was left holding onto nothing. I don’t want you to be someone’s Matt.”

Louis feels a flare of anger but Harry shakes his head.

“Not that you ever would be,” he says quickly. “I’m not saying that. I was only saying it so you would know. You would know what it feels like on the other side. To be someone’s Harry.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say all over again. Harry’s face is drawn but he doesn’t look like he’s bracing for sympathy. He only looks like he wants Louis to listen to him. It’s just like the night at the bar, Harry slowly letting him in. It doesn’t mean Louis’s heart isn’t curling at the edges like a worn book for the person in front of him; a boy who fell so in love he got lost in it and no one tried to find him.

“I appreciate the warning but I don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about,” Louis says finally. “I’m not planning to fall in love anytime soon.” He thinks he imagines the flicker in Harry’s eyes, a trick of the light. “Did you tell Matt?” Louis asks. “When you knew you loved him?”

Harry smiles then, “No.” He scrunches his nose and then straightens it like a rabbit just waking up. “I’m not so good with words. I sometimes think if I show people what I feel, they’ll get it. That I don’t have to say it.”

Louis smirks. “Can I just say that so far, you have yet to run out of words when we’re together? You keep telling me you’re shy and quiet when all I see is talkative and combative. Are you lying to me?”

Harry’s eyes sparkle this time when he laughs. “No,” he says. “It’s a comfort thing. I don’t like to talk to people if they’re only doing it to be polite or putting up with me.”

Louis remembers what Harry said about not being wanted, about talking to someone who doesn’t actually care what he has to say. Louis thinks it’s something more - Harry is scared of letting people get too close who turn out to be assholes. He already let someone get close who hurt him, Louis can tell he won’t make the same mistake twice. He isn’t going to be someone’s Harry the same way as he was to Matt.

“I get it,” Louis says, though half of what he understands was not offered out loud. “I’m, um, glad you feel comfortable with me.”

Harry smiles and it’s small. “I thought you’d give me shit for that.”

Louis licks his bottom lip and blinks twice. “Maybe later,” he says, smiling slowly. “We’ll see.”

*

When they pack into the car as the sun starts to set Louis feels the pleasant ache of a sunburn mixed with the not so pleasant feeling of lake residue, of sand on his legs and between his fingers. He pulls on a pair of track pants and a sweatshirt before climbing into the driver’s seat while Harry does the same and gets in the passenger seat. Harry puts Santa Fe into the directions with a yawn and Louis puts Sam Smith on the stereo again - something about Sam feels fitting.

If Louis had to write it down, he couldn’t. It’s more of a feeling than a tangible thing, this feeling rolling in his stomach about Harry. There’s been a shift in the last day, he thinks. Something has made them softer toward each other, almost safeguarding what they spent a full week poking holes in. Louis doesn’t know how to explain it, even to himself. They still banter, bicker, and fight a bit - but they’re learning each other’s soft spots, too. They’re memorizing the ways they’ll never want to hurt each other.

They stop for dinner at an organic burger place just off the highway and end up eating at a picnic table, noses red from the sun and appetites raging. Louis claims it’s the first time he’s ever eaten anything organic and Harry rolls his eyes like Louis is a habitual exaggerator.

“I don’t mind organic foods,” Harry says. “Just expensive, you know.”

“Tastes the same as everything else, honestly,” Louis says, licking a blip of mustard from his finger. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Unless you’re growing your own stuff, there is no way to tell if it’s been doused in chemicals or whatever.”

Harry chews with a smile curling on his lips. “I rented a garden plot,” he offers apropos of nothing.

Louis raises his eyebrows, “Where?”

“At school.” Harry swallows and wipes his hands with a napkin - probably also claiming to be organic. “I saw there was a place to rent plots in the student center so I signed up. There was a whole wait list but I got in at the end of the school year.”

Louis tries to imagine it - Harry in a gardening sun hat and some floral gloves tending to a rosebush. It’s not as hard to imagine as he anticipates. “What are you going to grow?”

“Mostly vegetables,” Harry says. “I’m doing tomatoes and cucumbers for now. And I want to do pumpkins for the fall.”

Louis laughs and shakes his head, “Somehow that sounds exactly like something you would spend your free time doing.”

Harry smiles and bites a fry in half. “You can come visit my garden sometime. I’ll let you.”

It’s the first time either of them have mentioned anything about seeing each other once they arrive in LA. Louis is barely coming to terms with the fact he would like for that to happen - let alone actually say it out loud.

“I’d like that,” he says. “That way I can make fun of you in person and not just in my head.”

“Oh, Louis,” Harry says, shaking his head, “Are you always this charming?”

“Only for you,” Louis says sweetly, laughing when Harry stares blankly at him.

*

New Mexico makes for a gorgeous night drive. The wide open spaces leave the sky an inky black with room for the stars to poke through like a red carpet for the moonlight. There are some mountains in the far off distance but the flat brush seems to curve on forever, Highway 25 swerving through far-reaching ranches and smaller homes.

“This is one of the prettier drives,” Louis comments, stretching his neck to see the full sky from inside the car.

“I wouldn’t mind stargazing on a night like this,” Harry says. “Usually that kind of stuff puts me to sleep.”

“Do you want to stop?” Louis asks, anticipating the answer.

“Yes,” Harry says earnestly. Louis’s surprise writes across his face and Harry smiles. “We can’t but I’d like to.”

“Why can’t we?” Louis asks without slowing the car. He wants to see what Harry has for an excuse this time.

“We need to get to Santa Fe and I’m worried if we’re too late, there won’t be rooms available.”

It’s a justifiable answer but Louis doesn’t really want to take it. “What hotel do you want to stay in?”

Harry shrugs, “I don’t know. Just something cheap, I guess.”

Louis raises his eyebrows once and then takes Harry’s phone from his hand. He drops his eyes off the road to press the hotel icon and then hits ‘Call’ for the first one listed.

“What are you doing?” Harry whisper yells, reaching for the phone. Louis bats his hand away.

“Hello,” he says loudly when someone answers. He glares at Harry to make him stop trying to grab at him. “I’d like to reserve a room for the night. Two beds, please.”

Harry stares curiously until his lips twitch into a smile as Louis requests a late night check-in and throws Harry an incredibly smug look. He hangs up the phone and tosses it back and Harry curls his lips in an attempt to hide his smile.

“I didn’t even think about that,” Harry says. “Like, didn’t cross my mind once.”

Louis shrugs, “S’what you have me for, yeah?”

Harry’s answering, “Yeah,” gets lost in the skid of the Jeep tires as Louis pulls off the highway and onto a gravel shoulder. “Now what are you doing?”

“Stopping to stargaze,” Louis says with an eye roll. “Obviously.”

He leaves Harry sitting in the car in a daze when he gets out. He opens the back hatch and tugs out one of the wool blankets they’d used at the drive in movie and then shuts it with a thud. Harry jumps when Louis opens the driver’s side door again. “How mad will you be if I sit on the hood of the car?”

“Not very,” Harry says, slowly. Louis gives him a thumbs up and then shuts the door, heading for the front of the car.

Carefully, he lays out the blanket and pulls it up to the bottom of the windshield and then smoothes it down over the hood. Harry is still watching him without moving so Louis knocks on the window to get him moving. Harry opens his car door slowly.

Getting on the hood isn’t as easy as Louis imagined but he lodges one foot in the well of the wheel and hoists his other leg up until he can sit perfectly on the hood. The Jeep is relatively wide and flat so there’s room for him to put his legs out straight, and extra room under his feet which means Harry’s long legs can fit too.

“Come up,” he says patting the spot next to him.

Watching Harry attempt to get on the roof is a comedic act as he slips off the wheel multiple times before landing next to Louis with a loud thud.

“If the hood is dented, it’s clearly your fault,” Louis says with an unimpressed look. Harry flips him off.

It takes some minor rearranging before they can lay flat, their lower backs propped slightly on the windshield. There’s only a slight breeze rolling around but the night isn’t too cold, comfortable enough in long pants and oversized sweatshirts.

“Do you do this often?” Harry asks with his hands tucked inside the sleeves of his grey hoodie.

“Stargaze?”

“Pullover on the side of the road and get on top of your car, I mean.”

Louis laughs lightly. “No this is definitely a first.”

“For me too,” Harry says, a smile over his words. “I like it.”

“It’s alright,” Louis says. Harry nudges him with his shoulder and he smiles. “It’s actually very nice. Do you want to get your camera?”

“Not really.” He swallows and adjusts his leg, the outside of his thigh brushes Louis’s. “It doesn’t take very good photos of dark skies. It’s like those annoying people who take pictures of fireworks when you really can’t see anything.”

“Hate those people,” Louis agrees easily. “Instagram is always insufferable around the 4th of July.” He glances over to see Harry smiling.

“Sometimes I don’t want a picture of a moment, you know? I just want to have the memory.”

Louis stays quiet, rolling Harry’s statement in his mind. “This is a memory you want to keep?”

“Yeah,” Harry says lowly like it’s a confession.

 _Why?_ bites at the tip of Louis’s tongue but he doesn’t ask. He just hums and lets the silence settle around them again. If Harry wants to tell him, he will.

“Do you think there are animals out there?” Louis asks, rolling his head to the side, to look at the wide openness of the land. It’s the same openness that made him nervous in Texas but seems a bit more mystic sitting here with Harry.

There’s a flutter of wind against the closer shrubs but everything else stays quiet. Harry wiggles his shoulders. “I hope not. That’ll give me the creeps if there are. If they’re like, watching us.”

“I imagine that would be pretty boring,” Louis muses. “They’d move on soon enough.”

A coyote howls far in the distance and they both jump, knocking shoulders and ankles in the process as they start laughing. Quiet settles again and Louis relaxes further against the car. No one has driven past since they’ve parked which could be the ideal setting for a horror movie plot or just fate’s funny way of giving them some time.

“Louis.” Harry’s voice breaks the night and Louis opens his eyes at the sound. He hadn’t even realized he’d started to drift.

“What is it?” Louis asks, quietly.

“Nothing,” Harry says. Louis glances out of the corner of his eye but Harry is still looking skyward.

“Okay,” he says, closing his eyes again.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Louis stops breathing, he swears his heart skips two beats and he keeps his eyes closed. His mouth is dry as he swallows. There’s a list of excuses he could give, a swath of reasons he can use to bat away the question but he doesn’t really want to. Sarcasm doesn’t seem like the answer for this moment.

“I wanted to,” he says. It’s the most honest he’s been in longer than he can remember, absolutely no bravado teasing over his meaning.

In the quiet that lingers, he wonders if he should apologize for it. He knows Harry kissed him back, will never really forget the way he sighed, but it doesn’t mean it was a well-intentioned gesture.

“I wanted you to, too.” Harry quiets the incessant voices in Louis’s head with his words.

He turns his head to look at Harry and finds Harry already looking at him, their ears pressed to the windshield and eyes locked.

“Yeah?” Louis swallows and feels his heart pounding up against his ribs. Harry nods slowly.

The next moment follows slowly, Harry’s eyes drifting all around Louis’s face and then coming back to meet Louis’s gaze. Louis’s mind is a runaway train going off the tracks and he doesn’t quite know how to stop it. There are so many different ways this can turn out - easy ones like jumping off the hood and faking an injury, harder ones like really asking _Why?_ out loud.

“And if I were to kiss you again?”

The quiet of the desert means he hears Harry’s small intake of breath and sees the soft flutter of his eyelashes. “Would I like it?”

Louis nods, his cheeks turning pink already.

Harry swallows and lifts his chin, “Yes.”

Louis feels his lungs with air and when he exhales, he smiles. “That’s good,” he says.

Harry licks his lips slowly, his pink tongue catching Louis’s eye too easily. “Louis?”

“Hm?”

“Was that a promise or a hypothetical question?”

Louis actually laughs, barely keeping from spluttering on Harry. His laugh fades to a quiet smile when Harry stays unmoving, his eyebrows drawn tight as he waits. Louis doesn’t want him to wait any longer.

He moves slowly, lifting his hand up toward their faces. He draws his fingertips over Harry’s cheekbone and down to his jawline, following to his chin so he can lift Harry’s face just slightly. Harry’s breathing is even under Louis’s gaze, his skin soft and smooth though Louis feels a scar under where his fingertips rest.

“A promise,” he mutters softly just before he kisses Harry, the words pressed like a ghost between their lips.

The kiss is soft and slow, hesitant under an endless sky. Then Harry does that _thing -_ the sigh Louis has had on repeat for two days straight and Louis feels it like a firework under his lungs. He coaxes Harry’s mouth open with his lips and presses his tongue in closer, tasting Harry for the first time. He tastes like the orange soda he drank with dinner and something so distinctly intoxicating Louis feels like he’s losing his mind.

His hand drifts to Harry’s neck, thumbing over his pulse and then pulling him in closer, getting lost in the heat between their mouths. Harry moves first when he presses his whole body closer, zipping up the space between their ribs. Louis can take the hint well enough as he rolls onto his back and nudges Harry along with him, adjusting so Harry settles between his legs.

Having Harry, heavy and warm, on top of him is like starting a fire and it’s all Louis can do to stay under control as his fingers twist in Harry’s hair and curve below his ears. Harry’s hands are braced on either side of Louis’s head on the windshield and it makes everything warmer, the heat of their kisses caught between them.  Louis kisses along Harry’s jaw and to his neck, instantly memorizing the sounds Harry makes, the punch of air from his lungs when he presses his hips against Louis’s.

They’re in the wide open, on the side of a random road all over again, but Louis can’t stop. He bites on the strong muscle of Harry’s neck just to hear his skipped breath. He runs his hands over the broad plains of Harry’s back and tucks his hand under his sweatshirt to feel the soft warmth of his lower back as their lips meet again.

“Oh my god,” Harry says, pulling back only slightly. Their faces are so close he’s only a blur until he pulls back a little further and draws into focus. His cheeks are red and his hair a complete mess but Louis can’t stop staring, his hands roaming a thin line under Harry’s sweatshirt, over his skin.

“Yeah?” Louis asks, smiling and then laughing as Harry kisses him all over again. It’s more playful now, Harry biting his bottom lip and then kissing his cheek as though he’s remembered where they are. Louis can’t help it when he lifts his hips to press against Harry’s again, the darkness that comes over Harry’s eyes when he does. He knows they’re in public and uncovered but he can’t stop the thrill he gets from that. It doesn’t help that he has Harry Styles on top of him, messy haired and flushed and wanting to be kissed.

Harry deepens the kiss and Louis opens his mouth to him, letting Harry take control. As soon as he does is when things go to shit - a semi-truck blaring by them with bright lights and two trailers thudding against the empty road.

They both jolt apart like teenagers caught by their parents and Louis slips off the edge of the Jeep from the momentum while Harry slides off the front, taking the blanket with him. There’s a ghostly quiet after the truck passes, nothing but the brake lights lingering in the darkness. The heat is gone replaced with the cold wind as they both try to get their bearings again.

“We should probably get back on the road,” Harry says, rolling the blanket in his arms. He doesn’t avoid Louis’s eyes but he doesn’t quite meet them.

“Probably,” Louis says. He licks his lips, wanting to say something about what has just happened, terrified of leaving it in unspoken silence like last time. “We wouldn’t want to get cited for public indecency.” It’s not exactly what he pictured saying but it’s out there anyway.

Harry’s reaction is immediate, a bubbled laugh that sounds like a cackle though he covers his mouth with his hand after only a moment.

Louis smiles, pleased. “Come on, babe,” he says, easy as anything, getting back in the car.

He has no idea what has just happened or what it’s supposed mean but he knows they have to keep going - they’ll figure it out eventually.

The drive to Santa Fe and the hotel Louis has booked is barely twenty minutes more down the road. Louis keeps smiling intermittently though he tries to bite the inside of his cheeks a couple times to stop it. More than once he catches Harry out of the corner of his eye, running his fingers over his lips as if to make sure they’re still there. Louis keeps his hands on the wheel but the feeling is more than mutual.

*


	5. Day 9 & 10

[DAY NINE](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165852749909/day-nine-cafe-pasquals-santa-fe-new-mexico-x-x)

Santa Fe, New Mexico

 

For perhaps the first time, Louis wakes up first and without an alarm. He’s cocooned in his covers as the air conditioner hums quietly in the corner.

Last night they’d come into the room quietly, taking showers and changing for bed separately before slipping into their beds and watching an old Friends rerun on the widescreen television. It is officially the first time Louis has ever made out with someone on top of a car and then slept five feet away from them without touching. He wanted to ask Harry if he’d ever done this but he didn’t want to have to acknowledge it all out loud. Everything between them feels fragile and undefined; Louis doesn’t want to be the one to break it or draw a dark line too soon.

Harry is still sleeping soundly in the bed next to him, his back to Louis. Louis watches the way his ribs rise and fall with his breath, the way his back shifts slightly when he moves in his sleep. Eventually, it gets creepy and Louis gets out bed to brush his teeth and use the toilet.

Harry is waking up when he comes back but only barely, one eye peeking open and following Louis across the room.

“Good morning,” Louis says softly.

“Morning.” Harry’s voice is lazy from disuse and he clears his throat.

Louis feels Harry’s gaze as he turns down the air conditioner and then gets back in bed pulling the sheets up to his shoulders. Harry rolls onto his side and looks at him quietly, blinking slowly.

“Stop being creepy,” Louis says although he’s just as guilty of it. Harry grins and rolls to his back, staring at the ceiling instead. “What are we doing today?”

Harry turns his head on the pillow and looks at Louis. “I never planned to be in Santa Fe,” he says. “Last night I should have been in Pie Town.”

“Pie Town,” Louis parrots back. “Please tell me that’s a real place.”

Harry smiles, “It is. It’s about four hours east of here.”

Louis nods, “So we need to drive there today?”

Harry pushes his lips out and then goes back to staring at the ceiling. “No. The reason I was planning to go was to stay the Lightning Field there. You stay in a cabin and see the lightning up close.”

Louis widens his eyes dramatically. “That sounds really cool.”

Harry glances at him with a smirk. “I know.”

“So let’s do it tonight,” Louis says. “We’ll stay in Santa Fe for the day and drive over there this evening.”

“Yeah?”

Louis laughs. “H, we can’t just cancel the whole trip because someone messed it up.” He coughs and looks away pointedly when Harry raises his eyebrows. “We do need to get to Los Angeles eventually. We might as well enjoy it.”

Harry nods, his tongue drawing over his bottom lip. “I don’t have a plan.”

“A plan?”

“For Santa Fe,” Harry clarifies. “There’s nothing on the itinerary.”

“Harry,” Louis says seriously, “Haven’t I shown you that the best laid plans are those that are not laid at all?”

Harry laughs so hard he snorts and Louis glares at him. “Sorry,” he says, sniffling. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know.”

“I’m aware,” Louis says evenly, lips twitching. “Can I pick what we do in Santa Fe, then? If there’s nothing else on the to-do list?”

Harry runs his teeth over his lip and shrugs. “I guess so.”

When Harry  sits up, the blankets pool around his waist and Louis feels like he’s about ten seconds from jumping onto Harry’s bed to kiss the curve of his stomach. Fate steps in before he can and Harry stands up, stretching languidly.

“No beer nuts. That’s my only rule.”

Louis groans and pulls the blankets up over his face. He’s never going to live those nuts down.

*

Once they’re both dressed and Harry has his camera, Louis leads them to Cafe Pasqual’s only a few blocks from their hotel.

“They have the best breakfast quesadilla in America,” Louis says confidently, holding the door open for Harry to go in first.

“How do you know that?”

Louis grins, “I looked on Instagram while you were in the shower.” Harry looks half amazed and half impressed as Louis asks for a table for two.

The quesadilla’s are delicious - if not a bit healthier than Louis typically chooses - and the presentation is well done if Harry pulling his camera from his backpack for a couple of shots is any indication.

Louis can’t say he focuses on the food all that much, though. There’s more focus on Harry, the way he talks and rambles through his stories, the quiet way he listens to Louis. It’s all the same as it has been but there’s an undercurrent of flirtation where there was hesitancy before. They tease and laugh, kick each other under the table and taste each other’s food.

It feels like a date, Louis thinks as they pay their bills and get ready to go. It feels like he wants to hold Harry’s hand and kiss him under the Santa Fe sun and - well, he’s really not sure that’s something he should be feeling in the first place. Not when they’ve only kissed a couple of times without preamble or explanation. Surely that shouldn’t incline his stomach to twist in such knots.

“Where are we going next?” Harry asks as they walk outside after breakfast, his lips twitching slightly like he’s asking it on purpose. He knows it’s usually Louis demanding to know the plan.

Louis smiles and slips his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Does it matter?”

Harry eyes him, walking slowly and then catches his step again. “No, I’m just curious if you have a plan.”

“I do,” Louis says, a smile coloring his voice. “It’s a surprise.” This part really feels like a date, too, the soft smiles and shy words, like they’re trying to impress each other. Louis feels it curling in his stomach and settling.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, checking the street signs as they pass to be sure they’re walking in the correct direction. “I feel like I should make you cover your eyes or something.”

“Kinky,” Harry says, lifting his eyebrows and laughing. Louis rolls his eyes but feels the tease like a zip in his spine.

The streets are wide and the buildings are the color of terracotta, the southwestern flavor far reaching to even the architecture. It’s warm but not too hot, a good day to be walking even if their destination is barely ten minutes from breakfast.

“You’re kidding,” Harry says, stopping short.

Louis follows Harry’s gaze to the sign announcing the Georgia O’Keeffe museum and grins. “We’re not going here, H.”

Harry clears his throat and nods, “Sorry. This was originally on my Santa Fe list but then I didn’t think I’d be stopping here so I took it off. I just got excited when I saw it.” He smiles timidly and the things it does to Louis’s insides should not be legal.

“Harry, I’m fucking with you,” he says, not waiting to draw out his joke further. Not when Harry actually looks embarrassed at his own enthusiasm. “This is exactly where we’re going.”

The confusion melts off Harry’s face and he laughs lightly, shaking his head. He licks his bottom lip, laughing again. “Why did you pick this? You don’t like art.”

“Maybe it’s growing on me,” Louis says with a shrug. He half-smiles, “Figured you would like it.”

It’s an understatement but he doesn’t know if Harry can read it. The truth is that he saw the Georgia O'Keeffe museum pop up on his perusal of places to go but the name had only slightly registered as an artist he’s heard of. He clicked around to some of her quotes and life story - finding he was smiling at the way she wrote about the strength in being a woman, being vulnerable and creating art. He couldn’t say for sure but she seemed like exactly the kind of artist Harry would be interested in.

Harry’s lips part in slight awe as they walk up the winding path to the front of the building. Louis wants to kiss him so badly he feels it like a punch upside the stomach. He curls his fingernails against his palms, trying to quell it.

*

Watching Harry in the museum doesn’t get old. They curve in and out of rooms with Harry making a stray remark every once in awhile but mostly taking it all in. Louis can’t figure out the rhyme or reason behind the paintings Harry stops to study and the ones he merely glances at before continuing on. Louis thinks his favorite part is watching Harry read through the descriptions next to the paintings and then squint at the stroke-work before smiling and mentioning something about it he’s found worthwhile. Louis doesn’t like art, not in the same way Harry does, but he thinks he could watch Harry for hours and not get tired of it. He wonders if a thought like that should scare him.

“She was so unafraid,” Harry says as they pass through a room dedicated to the artist’s childhood. “She didn’t know what she was doing but kind of just did it anyway. Put her heart out there and hoped it wouldn’t get stomped on.”

“What a way to live,” Louis says as they pause at another painting - this one rich in blues and purples.

Harry[ lifts his camera](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165852824809/day-nine-george-okeeffe-museum-santa-fe-new) to take a shot of the painting. “I think I would like to live that way,” he says, “I don’t really know how, though.”

Louis hums and starts to move on but Harry stays fixated on the painting. “I think once you get burned the first time, it’s hard to keep yourself held open. Like, you’re just waiting to be hit again.”

Louis nods again and moves to the next painting, not wanting to say too much. It’s hard to trust again until you know it’s worth it, he thinks - but how in the world are you ever supposed to know what or who is deemed worthy.

There’s a cafe in the middle of the museum with a patio overlooking the rolling plains of New Mexico and though Harry hesitates, Louis tells him they have the time to stop for a snack. He pushes Harry to go sit and then orders them two cups of tea he carefully takes outside. He stares at Harry for a moment, his camera and phone on the wrought iron patio table and his legs stretched out in front of him, eyes cast somewhere over the horizon. He looks like the picture of relaxed in his faded blue jeans and converse, like there’s nowhere else he’d like to be.

“This is such a good surprise,” Harry says when he hears Louis coming and looks over.

“The tea?” Louis hands him his cup with a raised eyebrow as he sits in the chair next to Harry’s.

“No,” Harry says. He takes the lid from the cup to let the steam roll out. Louis does the same though his has a bit of milk in it which speeds the process. “This day.”

Louis’s lips twitch as he tries not to smile. “Did you doubt my planning skills?”

“Not at all. I just wasn’t sure what we’d be doing. I don’t like not knowing.”

“Not one for surprise parties then?”

Harry blows softly on his tea and glances up. “Hate surprise parties. _Hate_.”

“Noted,” Louis says, trying not to smile again.

“I don’t much like surprises in general,” Harry says. “I like to plan them but I don’t like them to happen to me.”

“But you like today?”

Harry nods, “I like today.”

Louis smiles and takes the first sip of his tea. “Good.”

*

The museum takes another couple of hours once they finish their drinks. As they walk, all Louis can think about is how badly he doesn’t want the night before to be the only night like it. He wants to taste Harry’s lips again, feel his breath against his mouth. He might be developing an addiction as he finds his eyes tracing Harry’s lips when he talks, gaze caught on his smile or when he bites his lips as he studies particular paintings. Louis tries to stop - but he’s not very good at it.

They end up in the museum shop where Harry goes a bit wild buying postcard prints of the images and a mug with one of the artist’s quotes on it. He isn’t ashamed as he goes to pay, flashing Louis a smile and carrying all of his merchandise to the cash register. Louis rolls his eyes to hide his fond smile.

Louis looks up directions to their next destination on the walk back to the hotel. It looks like a four hour drive that seems daunting in the scheme of things. He would love to take Harry to all of the galleries they pass as they curve through the streets but he knows they need to get on the road - besides, the O’Keeffe museum was him playing his Ace for the day, he’s not sure he can hit gold twice in planning their itinerary.

Harry babbles on about all the art they’ve just seen, theorizing about different meanings and getting more from color and strokes than Louis ever possibly could. He smiles over his words as they come out faster than Louis’s heard him speak over the past five days, his eyes all but shining. Louis is a bit obsessed with the way Harry is reacting and the soft desire curling through his rib cage to keep making Harry react like this, to keep making him bounce when he walks because he’s so excited.

“It’s just amazing,” Harry is saying, slightly breathless as they walk to the Jeep. “Seeing it all for myself, you know? You always see pictures and then to actually be close enough to touch.” He shakes his head as his voice trails off.

Their bags are already packed from this morning, the sun gleaming off the hood. Louis glances and feels the reaction to a memory viscerally - he kissed Harry on that same hood, felt Harry’s body on top of his right against that windshield. It makes his mouth go dry.

“Louis.”

Harry sounds like it’s not the first time he’s said Louis’s name and Louis blinks quickly realizing they’ve both stopped at the hood of the car. Harry probably caught Louis staring at it too - so much for keeping his obsession low profile.

Louis clears his throat and turns to face Harry. They’re closer than he realized, the toes of his shoes brushing Harry’s easily. “Hm?” He asks, not exactly trusting his voice. He studies Harry’s smile, the slow way it spreads over his mouth.

“I was just saying thank you,” Harry says. “For taking me to the museum.” He licks his bottom lip and Louis tracks that too. “I know that’s not your favorite thing to do but it really means a lot to me.”

Louis nods dumbly, swallowing. “Good,” he says. “I wanted to make you happy.” It’s not exactly what he pictured himself saying but it’s already out before he can stop it and, the truth is there too. He did want to make Harry happy. He could have chosen a brewery that sounded kind of nice but he didn’t, he chose a museum he knew Harry would like.

Harry smiles and it’s directed at the toes of his shoes. Louis studies the brush of his eyelashes and the dip of his top lip before Harry looks up again.

“Well, thank you,” he says. It’s quiet and earnest in a way Louis hasn’t really seen Harry before. He’s definitely not prepared for the way his body reacts, his hand slipping around the side of Harry’s next as he pulls him lower for a kiss; pressing their lips together to say the words he doesn’t know how, the words he isn’t sure he actually wants to say out loud.

Harry presses into the kiss easily, his hands going to Louis’s hips and holding as his mouth falls open under Louis’s tongue. Louis pulls back first - well aware of where they are - and smiles. “You’re welcome,” he whispers.

Harry’s eyes trace his face and then he kisses Louis again, soft and quick, fleeting like a butterfly’s wings. Quick as it starts, Harry is walking to the car, a small smile quirking on his lips. Louis gives himself a moment to restart his breathing and then he heads for the passenger side door. He’s always been one for adventure but this is one turn he didn’t exactly see coming.

*

“You’re not actually going to get a chile pie are you?”

“The sign says they’re known for their chile pies, I’m pretty sure that’s a good indication.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “It’s going to make you puke.”

Harry turns toward the menu and crosses his arms over his chest. “You don’t know that.”

Louis doesn’t respond. They’re both slightly irritable after their drive through western New Mexico with nothing fueling them since breakfast but a cup of tea. Louis would like to pretend their kiss was enough to save them from bickering back and forth but it really, really didn’t.

[Pie Town, New Mexico](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165852861674/day-nine-pie-town-catron-county-new-mexico-x) is small in comparison to Santa Fe and a bit disappointing. Louis may have been secretly hoping to be greeted by a life size pie of some sort instead of Harry pointing out the Pie-O-Neer Cafe where they, evidently, specialize in chili pies.

“Apple, green chile and pine nuts,” Louis reads the ingredients out loud. “That actually sounds like throw up.” Harry glares at him. There’s a crowd in front of them and people at every table in the cafe, it’s not as though people are actually listening to them.

“I want to try it,” Harry says, a bit defiant if Louis hears it right.

“What if we each get two pieces,” Louis says, “And then we just share between us. It’ll be like a sampler.”

Harry’s lips twitch and he narrows his eyes, “Is this your way of saying you want to try the chile pie?”

“No,” Louis says quickly. “Maybe,” he adds. “When in Rome and all that.” It takes Harry a second to catch his joke but then he laughs loudly, his eyes squeezing shut.

*

They end up with five slices of pie in a to-go box: Apple Cranberry Crumb, Starry Starry Blueberry Night, Chocolate Cream, Peanut Butter Chocolate and Peach Green Chile. Harry tried to make a last minute play for two chile slices but Louis overruled him, citing the fact they still need to drive an hour north to the lightning fields and don’t need to be puking out of the window. Harry agreed with a sigh.

There’s no place to sit when they leave the counter, white box held between Harry’s hands as they scan the room.

“There’s a field across the way.” Louis turns to the woman behind the pie counter who must be watching them. “A lot of people choose to eat over there,” she says.

Louis glances at Harry and shrugs. “We have the blankets in your car, yeah?”

Harry nods and smiles at the woman. “Thanks for the suggestion.”

They head for the doors before Louis back tracks to the counter. “Do you have some forks and napkins we can steal?”

She hands two forks and a wad of napkins over the counter with a smile. “If you really want to woo him, you better take him towards the left edge,” she says conspiratorially. Louis stares blankly and she winks before turning to the next customer.

“What’d she say?” Harry asks by the door, his sunglasses pushed up on his head and his hair poking out on the sides.

“Just to have fun,” Louis says without meeting his eyes, slipping under his arm and out the front.

They get a blanket from the back of the car and head out toward the field they’ve been recommended, Harry still holding the pies. Louis doesn’t think he’s going to take the pie lady’s advice until he actually does and gently steers Harry toward the left half of the field.

The view is more than worth it, the tall grass all around them and a cliff careening into the open plains with a pure blue river in the background. The sky is just starting to twist with thin clouds but it still looks like a picture. Harry must agree as he leaves Louis to set out the blanket and starts taking pictures over the cliff.

“Be careful,” Louis tells him when he starts to get too close to the edge. Harry glances over his shoulder and throws him a smile before taking a couple of steps back. Louis’s heart is better for it.

They sit across from each other with the pie box in front of them as they tear into each piece of pie and try to give technical reviews as though they're on a cooking show. Harry is much better at coming up with descriptive words though Louis does give it his best shot.

“Do you like baking?” Louis asks as they finish the blueberry pie. It’s made Harry’s lips tinged blue and his tongue purple - Louis is sure he looks the same.

Harry nods, swallowing his bite. “As a kid, I wanted to own a bakery-slash-bookshop.”

“This was pre-astronaut or post-astronaut?”

“Post,” Harry says, smiling slowly. “Pre falling in love with art.”

“You could have it all,” Louis says. “A bakery-bookshop-gallery.”

“Could do. Maybe one day.”

“When you’re rich enough to own your own gallery?”

Harry smiles, “Yes, that day.”

“What’s our review on blueberry?” Louis asks as he splits the last bit in two and they each take half.

“Love the name,” Harry says. “Starry Starry Blueberry makes me want to stargaze.”

“To be fair, we’ve done that,” Louis says. “But I agree. It tastes like summer evenings.”

Harry smiles, “Exactly. Bare feet on the grass.”

“Feet, really?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “It’s the feeling not the actual thing.”

“Speaking of feet, the chile one will probably taste like feet.”

“Can we stop talking about feet?”

Louis laughs. “Fine but you have to try the chile one first.”

“Sure.” Harry uses the edge of his fork to cut off a piece confidently. “I’m not afraid.”

Louis scrunches his nose as Harry takes a bite. He watches as Harry chews slowly and then promptly leans to the side and spits out his bite on the edge of the blanket.

“No?” Louis asks, his laughter making him exhale hard.

Harry wipes the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand and immediately goes back to their half-finished cranberry slice. “It tastes like feet,” he says, chewing the new piece of pie. “Exactly like feet.”

Louis laughs and then tilts his head. “You seem to know a lot about what feet taste like.” Harry chews with a dead stare. It makes Louis laugh all over again.

They start in on the chocolate pie after that, battling each other with their forks as swords for the bites closest to the sweet crust.

"Why do you want to be a lawyer?" Harry asks with chocolate on his lip. He licks it off before Louis can mention. "We always talk about me but I don't know why you're starting law school."

"The first part is a really stupid reason," Louis says. "But the second part will make it better."

Harry nods, "Alright, then. Let's have it."

"I wasn't a great student when I was younger," Louis says, tilting his head back and forth. "I was smart and had potential but I liked to have fun too. Tell jokes and stuff."

"A distraction."

Louis half-smiles, "Yes, Mr. Styles. I was a distraction."

Harry matches his smile. "Go on."

"I was being a distraction and my grades had started to kind of slip, riding my skateboard was more fun than homework, you know how it goes."

"I don’t actually. See, I thought I was going to be an astronaut," Harry says primly. "I've had ambitions from a very young age." He laughs over the ends of his words.

Louis rolls his eyes. "In high school, I had a teacher tell me I wouldn't become anything worthwhile and I'd spend my whole life bouncing around low paying jobs."

"That's rude," Harry says quickly, eyebrows pulling together.

"My mom just about hit the roof when I told her and marched right down to the school." Louis smiles at the memory of his mom - always the first to protect him and his sisters, charging headfirst without asking questions. He waves his hand, that's not the point. "Anyway, I graduated with middle of the road grades and decided I would just study harder and become the most worthwhile thing I could think of."

"A lawyer."

"Very good," Louis says with a smirk. "I set out to study Political Science so I could become a lawyer. And then I started to love it. I did my internships in law offices and ate up the strategies and decisions being made around me. I was obsessed with it and there's nothing better than to be obsessed with what you're studying. I started doing well in my classes classes and taking on more intern hours. Everything clicked into place just because I was proving someone wrong."

Harry smiles as Louis finishes, by far the most attentive listener Louis has met. "What kind of law do you want to practice?"

"Family," Louis says quickly, easily. "My birth dad isn't in my life anymore but there was a nasty custody battle when I was growing up. It was miserable for me and my mom to even go through. I want to be able to help kids like me and parents like my mom. It feels important."

Harry cuts a piece of pie delicately and puts it on his tongue. "You're very noble."

"Not exactly," Louis says. He shakes his head. "I'm just trying to find a purpose in life. Hoping law might be it."

Harry swallows and his eyes meet Louis's. "Even if it's not, I hope you know that teacher was wrong about you. You're going to be amazing at something, whatever it is."

Louis grins, "Oh, I know. Haven't you figured it out yet? My confidence rages on a pretty high scale most of the time."

Harry laughs, "Alright, well if you ever need someone to boost it, I'll be here."

The moment switches to something heavier as they both smile and then let it fade, eyes holding. Harry clears his throat first. "I dare you to eat the chile pie."

Louis blinks. "I don't remember agreeing to play truth or dare with you, H."

Harry smiles and blinks slowly, "Please? Try it."

As if Louis could say no to Harry. He tries to decline three more times but Harry is not having it, already using his fork to cut off another edge of the chile pie.

"You can't just force it in my mouth," Louis says when he settles on the fact Harry is going to ignore his protests.

Harry laughs and uses his finger to keep the pie on the fork. "I know."

"What do I get if I try it?" Louis eyes the pie wearily, his stomach almost gurgling. Chile and pears just doesn't seem appealing when they have four perfectly great pieces of pie already.

Harry moves his head back and forth, weighing. "I'll drive the next leg."

"Eh, it's already your turn."

"You can turn the air conditioning off in the next hotel," Harry offers.

"The cold is growing on me," Louis says. "It's refreshing." He wasn't actually planning to tell Harry that but it's too late now.

Quiet lingers and then Harry rubs his lips together. "You can kiss me."

Louis runs his tongue over his teeth, "Is that supposed to be tempting?"

Harry gasps and laughs but Louis sees the way his cheeks turn pink. "Okay, okay, I'll come up with something else."

"No," Louis says before he can. "I choose option C."

Harry smiles and swallows as he offers the fork to Louis. Louis skips the pretense of taking it himself and leans forward instead, letting Harry feed the pie into his mouth. Their eyes meet as he opens his lips and Harry slips the fork inside. It's a heavy moment, heady when Louis closes his lips and leans back, taking the pie with him.

The moment breaks like shattered glass the moment Louis's tongue registers what is on it. The chile is overpowering, the pear isn't sweet enough, the consistency is sticky and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe properly without puking. He pulls himself onto his hands and knees and spits the pie chunk over the edge of the blanket, wiping his mouth as Harry cackles loudly. By the time Louis looks over at him, he's gone silent with laughter, his head in his hands.

Louis should hate him; he should storm away and get in the car until they leave for the next stop. All he really wants to do is tackle Harry into the tall grass and see if he tastes like Starry Starry Blueberry Pie.

Laughter bubbles from Harry’s lips in sporadic bursts for the next few moments as Louis sets about cleansing his mouth with a bite of the chocolate pie. “It’s not that funny,” he says when Harry’s smile widens like he’s going to start giggling again.

“It is,” Harry says. “Your face was amazing.”

“It’s also the face I make before I vom so that’s a pretty intimate look into my life, Harry.”

Harry swallows, “Good. I told you, I want to get to know you.”

Louis can’t ignore the quiet flare in his stomach. “Well, you have a good start.” In the quiet that lingers, Louis realizes what he should say. “I want to get to know you, too, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Harry looks up from where he’s been tracing designs on the blanket under them, “Think it’s worth it?”

“Yes,” Louis says firmly. It’s as much as he can help to not yell it out louder and make sure Harry hears him. Of course he’s worth getting to know, of course he is.

“Do you have anything particular you’d like to know?” Harry asks, fluttering his eyelashes and grinning dopily.

Louis purses his lips and hums. “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

“That’s your burning question?”

“I might have more,” Louis says mysteriously. “I’m starting small.”

“You’re going to scream when I tell you.”

“It’s vanilla isn’t it?” Louis says right away. “That’s the only flavor that would make me scream.”

Harry grins, “And if I tell you I have a good reason?”

Louis sighs and leans back on his hands, the pie settling in his stomach and making him feel rather full. “I’ll allow your explanation.”

“Sometimes you make me feel like I’m in court,” Harry says. “Fighting to defend my opinions.”

“You are,” Louis says, “And I’m the overpaid judge, so don’t waste my time.”

Harry laughs. “Vanilla is my favorite because it’s the perfect base. You can make any kind of sundae when you start with vanilla and you aren’t limited by too many flavors in one mixture. You control the entire flavor depending on what choices you make.”

Louis nods and tries not to smirk. “Well argued.”

Harry nods his head, “Thank you.”

“I don’t agree but I can appreciate the view.”

Harry narrows his eyes and tosses his fork back in the pie box. “I appreciate your consideration.”

They both start laughing at the same time, barely holding eye contact and it feels like springtime in September. There’s just a certain light Harry gives off and Louis wants to catch every bit that he can. He didn’t realize it when they met, or the first few days of the trip, but there’s something in Harry that feels electric, contagious.

They don’t finish the pie and only linger a bit longer before they head back to the car to go north to the Lightning Fields. Louis only realizes it once they’re on the road, again - he never got his kiss for completing the dare.

*

“You’re cutting it close, showing up without a reservation.” Mabel, as her nametag says, stares both of them down from behind her reception desk at the front of the Lightning Fields Inn, her eyes narrowed.

Harry shifts nervously, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. “We had one, or I had one,” he stumbles over his words, “It was for the other night but I had to cancel. We took longer on the road than I anticipated.”

She doesn’t show any sympathy. “You realize our waiting list is two months long?”

Harry nods, “Yes, I do. I signed up in June and obviously didn’t think I’d miss the reservation.”

For the first time, Louis actually feels guilty for messing up the route and putting them a day behind. He’d thought Harry was being his controlling self with the plan - he hadn’t thought there would be the consequence of a missed reservation.

“Have there been any cancellations today?” Louis asks, stepping forward. Harry looks like he’s not feeling well, his hands twisting together in front of him. It feels like Louis’s fault; maybe because it _is_ his fault.

Mable stares at him. “There may have been.”

Louis adjusts the straps on his backpack and steps forward further, determined. “Can you check, please?”

She doesn’t seem inclined as she shakes her mouse to wake up her computer, her bored expression tracing to her computer. “Don’t see any,” she says hardly a full two seconds later, her shoulders shrugging unconvincingly.

“That’s okay,” Harry says, clearly uncomfortable. “Thank you for checking.”

Louis isn’t going to give up so easily. “Are you sure?” He licks his lips and then the lies pour like rain after a long drought. “See, it’s really important that we get to stay here tonight. He planned this for our anniversary,” he points with his thumb over his shoulder at Harry, “and he managed to keep it a secret for two months, which isn’t easy with his big mouth, let me tell you.”

Harry is frozen and looks stricken, but Mabel is looking at Louis curiously. He presses on.

“He planned out an entire road trip for us and it’s been so romantic,” Louis lies with a smile. “I, of course, made us delayed by staying too long at the last place so we could go horseback riding.” He grins. Mabel looks like she would appreciate horses. Her slight smile tells him he’s right. “I love horses,” he adds for good measure. Harry clears his throat behind him.

“Right, that’s not the point,” Louis says, glancing at Harry and then back to Mabel. “It’s our five year anniversary and if we can’t see the Lightning Fields, it’ll break his heart.” He lowers his voice, “Please don’t make me be responsible for that.”

There’s a bubble of a moment where he holds his breath and he thinks Harry might be too. And then Mabel breaks it by sliding her hands on the keys of her keyboard, eyes tracking on her computer.  “We have a cancellation in cabin three,” she says, eyes not leaving the screen.

“We’ll take it,” Louis says quickly, fire bursting up through his ribs in excited flares.

Mabel glances up at them. “It’s a shared cabin,” she says. “So there are other occupants in the other rooms with a shared kitchen.”

“That’s fine,” Louis says with a nod. “That’s great. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Harry echoes from behind Louis, a bit breathless. Louis reaches back for his hand and holds it tight in his. He tells himself it’s a convincing act for Mabel but he also likes it for his own selfish reasons, all of Harry’s rings cool against his skin.

Mabel confirms they’re using the credit card on file and then gives them a binder with guidelines and a key to cabin three. “There’s a grocery store on your walk out there. Feel free to stop and pick up something for dinner. Most people eat in their rooms and watch from their windows. There’s an eighty percent chance of rolling thunder tonight so you’re extremely lucky to be getting in.”

In that moment, Louis realizes he has no idea what a Lightning Field even is and if Mabel has just made a sexual joke relating to rolling thunder but he doesn’t think this is the ideal moment to clarify. “Fantastic,” he says, instead. “Thanks.” He squeezes Harry’s hand and smiles when Harry squeezes back.

“You’re welcome,” Mabel says, cracking a smile for the first time. It’s not even a full smile, almost a cheerful grimace. “Congratulations, by the way.”

“On what?” Louis asks, still trying to keep his smile in place.

“On five years,” she says slowly.

“Our anniversary,” Harry cuts in loudly before Louis can blow their cover. Their cover he came up with.

“That’s right,” Louis says with a nod. He takes a step toward the door, tugging Harry with him. “Thank you for the kind wishes,” he says and then Harry takes over, pushing him out the door.

“Harry,” Louis says when he thinks they’re far enough from Mabel’s watchdog perch.

“Yes?” Harry is still holding his hand and doesn’t seem inclined to let go.

“What the fuck is a Lightning Field?”

Harry’s laughter ricochets off the cabins surrounding them and Louis finally drops his hand just to shove his shoulder, the movement doing nothing to impede Harry’s laughter.

*

[The Lightning Field](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165853677819/day-nine-walter-de-maria-lightning-field) in Pie Town, New Mexico is, it turns out, kind of ridiculous. A guy built a bunch of metal stands that will carry an electric charge and draw lightning out longer than a simple strike. There’s not always a chance of a storm but people take the chance anyway because of the visual effect when it does happen.  It’s completely counter-intuitive to everything Louis has learned about lightning - mainly that he should be running the other direction in a storm - but the way Harry explains it, smiling over his words and clearly giddy over the prospect makes it feel like exactly what they should be doing.

True to Mabel’s word, there’s a grocery store in the middle of the cabins, fairly well stocked with all kinds of boxed and canned food. For the first time, they don’t even discuss what they want to eat as they both head for the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese display, sharing a private smile. Harry gets bottles of water and a couple of bananas that look like they’ve head better days.

“How many boxes are you getting?” Harry asks when Louis comes back from getting the milk and butter they need for the macaroni.

“Three,” Louis says easily. “What?” He laughs at Harry’s raised eyebrows. “According to you, we have to stay awake for half the night waiting for a storm that might not come. I want to be prepared.”

Harry tilts his head thoughtfully and then rolls his eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, alright.”

The sky is already darkening by the time they head for cabin three, an eerie feeling settling over them. The clouds roll in slowly, fluffy but dark and grey, casting a shadowy light as coolness settles. The lights are on inside the cabins but no one seems to be out and about, probably settling in for the storm.

“It’s like the universe knows everyone is waiting for a storm,” Louis says. “Kind of creepy.”

“Or they built this place where they know there are always storms.”

Louis’s lips twitch but he doesn’t smile.  “Yeah, maybe.”

Cabin three stands out among the others, a rusted red with a black roof, with hardly any windows along the front. It looks like a prison but Louis doesn’t want to be the one to say it.

“I hope you can run quickly,” Harry says as they walk up the gravel path to the front door.

“Why?”

“In case we end up being the real life plot of a horror movie.”

“Optimistic, I see,” Louis says with a smile.

“You can’t say this doesn’t look like the setting of a crime novel.”

Louis looks over the house, appraising. “Reminds me of my childhood home, honestly.” Harry catches his bluff, rolling his eyes to hide his smile.

Louis holds the grocery bags while Harry unlocks the front of the cabin, both of them holding their breath as they try to determine what may be lying beyond.

It’s not what they expect.

The cabin opens to a main room with fluffy couches and a fireplace, a television sitting quietly in the corner. There’s a kitchen off to the corner and three closed doors along the back wall.

“Odd layout,” Harry says quietly, shutting the door behind them. It smells as though someone has been cooking but everything is quiet, the doors shut snugly and only a lamp on in the main room.

“What room are we in?” Louis asks. “Mabel left that handy detail out.”

Harry’s eyes widen as he looks over. “Are we going to have to test the doors to find an empty room?”

“No,” Louis says. “I’ll just go back and ask what room is ours.”

“And leave me here?” Harry whisper-shouts and Louis can’t help but laugh.

“You can come with me.” Louis takes a step toward the door but Harry pins him with his gaze.

“I will not be electrocuted by being outside of the cabin when the storm starts. Didn’t you read the safety guidelines?”

“Clearly you did,” Louis says, adjusting their groceries on his hip. “Which, by the way, when would I have time to read safety guidelines considering I just now found out what a lightning field even is in the first place?”

Harry rolls his eyes, “Still. We’re not leaving.”

Louis rolls his eyes right on back, ready to leave Harry standing petulantly in the middle of the cabin when there’s a thud from one of the rooms and they both jump, their bodies pressing together.

“Fuck,” Harry whispers, one hand going over his heart. Louis takes a deep breath; his own heart pounding. “What are you doing?” Harry hisses as Louis goes toward the first room, hand outstretched.

“Finding our room,” he whispers over his shoulder. He holds his breath again as he twists the knob on the first door, nervous to barge in on someone behind the door unexpectedly. There’s resistance and the door stays shut. “It’s locked,” he says, relief curling in his lungs.

He tests the next door and finds it locked while the third one springs open into an empty room. Louis barely takes a step inside before Harry is pressing up against him and slipping inside with him.

Louis’s eyes are immediately drawn to the far wall which is completely made of glass and overlooks the field below. “Shit,” he whispers, heading straight for it, the grocery bags still in his arms.

It’s more than he imagined a field with metal contraptions would look like and the haze of the sunset covered in grey clouds makes it even more beautiful. There’s a sliding door on the left side of the wall and small porch that is covered by the overhanging roof. The sides of the porch connect to the roof on either side for privacy and Louis thinks it may be the coolest thing he’s ever seen. He turns to Harry to see if he’s as intrigued but Harry’s still in the doorway, staring at the bed in the center of the room.

Louis looks, too - but he doesn’t see anything wrong. There are a ton of pillows and the white duvet is impossibly fluffy; it’s just a bed. It hits him slowly as he looks over at Harry, realization settling in. There’s only one bed in their shared room.

“Would it be weird to call Mabel and say that we’d like to celebrate our five-year anniversary in different beds?” Louis asks seriously. It cracks the tension in Harry’s face as he starts to smile slowly and then actually laughs, his dimple curving into his cheek.

“She’d probably tell us to sleep in the field if we did,” Harry says, shifting his weight.

It goes quiet again and Louis licks his lip. “I’m okay with sharing if you are. Or, we can, you know, figure something else out. I can sleep on the couch.”

Harry looks to the bed and back to Louis, no confusion on his face. “I’m fine with sharing, yeah.”

Louis holds his eyes and nods, pretends his stomach doesn’t backflip. “Cool.” He swallows, “Should we go make our dinner before the storm starts?”

Harry flings his bag on the bed and nods. He takes the grocery bags from Louis and turns on his heel toward the door. “Meet me out there? Don’t make me cook dinner with a bunch of strangers.”

Fuck. Louis already forgot they’re in a house of strangers.

He lifts his own bag onto the bed and runs his hand back through his hair. He’s kissed Harry three times, jerked himself off over the thought of him more times than he cares remember,  and now he’s going to share a bed with him.

“Good luck,” Louis whispers to himself, heading toward the kitchen. He’s not sure how he’s going to survive this night in one piece.

*

The kitchen is tiny but they seem to be the only ones intent on using it as the rest of the house stays quiet. There definitely isn’t room for them to both participate in macaroni cooking though they do try; hips and shoulders bumping as they move around.

Louis measures out enough milk and butter for two batches and then puts the rest in the refrigerator while Harry stirs the mixture all together in a pot.

“Don’t know why you got three,” Harry says. “We’ll be eating macaroni for breakfast tomorrow at this rate.”

“Nice,” Louis says, “I love having leftovers for breakfast.”

“Macaroni for breakfast?” Harry sticks his tongue out and squeezes his eyes shut. Louis pinches his hip, laughing.

“Did you buy wine?” He asks, his eye catching on the bottle perched on the counter top.

“No,” Harry says. “I didn’t even think about it.”

Louis skirts the edge of the counter and grabs for the Pinot Noir, checking a card attached to the neck. “Complimentary,” he murmurs, letting the card slip from his grasp.

Harry whistles lowly, “Fancy place, eh?”

Louis laughs as he sets about looking for wine glasses in the cupboards. He gets out two large bowls when Harry asks and finally comes across some stemless wine goblets. There’s a wine opener in the drawer he uses with only a minor struggle before the cork comes free. Harry splits the macaroni into two bowls and then washes the pan in the sink because he’s a good boy. Or, a better boy than Louis would be in the same situation.

“This is quite the romantic situation,” Louis says. He carefully pours their glasses just over halfway full. There’s a wine stopper he uses on the bottle, tucking it in his arm to take back to their room. “The wine and dinner while you watch a storm thing.”

Harry huffs a laugh. He grabs out two forks and both of their bowls, turning off the cooking fan over the stove. “I guess so.”

“Do you think a lot of babies are made here?” Louis asks as they navigate back down the hallway. “I’d love to be a lightning baby.”

“I don’t know,” Harry says thoughtfully. “You’d have to be okay making a baby with two other couples in the same house as you.”

Louis laughs and twirls as he backs into their room. “Some people are into that, you know.”

Harry raises his eyebrows and kicks the door shut behind them. It closes with a soft latching noise. “Really? Tell me more.”

Louis rolls his eyes and reaches around Harry to lock the door. Harry’s eyebrows go up even higher and Louis just laughs.

“What do we do?” Louis asks once they’re settled in front of the window, a bowl of macaroni in their laps and a glass of wine each sitting by their feet.

“Just wait?” Harry shrugs. “I’m not exactly sure.”

There’s a smattering of rain outside the window but not enough to really do anything. Louis thinks it’s a good sign of things to come - the rolling thunder Mabel mentioned earlier. Perhaps she really did mean it literally.

They eat and watch the clouds change, the field going dark and ominous like the introduction to a show. Louis gets chills at the purple haze and shakes his shoulders to right himself. He definitely finishes all of his macaroni but Harry can’t get through the last few bites, lying back on the carpet with a moan.

“I’m going to change,” Louis says, standing up. He takes Harry’s bowl and his to set on the dresser. “I want to be warmer if we go outside.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Harry says just before heaving himself off the floor with a loud groan.

Louis doesn’t feel like changing in the bathroom and Harry must not either as they both stand on opposite sides of the bed while they put on sweats and hoodies. They both sit on the bed to put on their socks – Louis’s plain white while Harry goes for pink with green dinosaurs.

The first roll of thunder catches them both off guard, standing up off the bed and staring at each other. “This might be scarier than I anticipated,” Harry says, smiling.

“You can hold my hand,” Louis says even though he brushes right past Harry and to the windows. Now that they’re here, now that there’s a storm - he’s not going to miss it. “Come on,” he says over his shoulder. “Don’t fuck up our five year anniversary by sitting inside all night.”

Harry’s laughter is loud and their neighbors have surely overheard but Louis doesn’t really care. He refills their wine glasses and uses his foot to open the door wider, slipping outside. Harry comes out behind him, shutting the door.

“No camera?”

Harry shakes his head. “Another time I want the memory not the picture.”

“Suit yourself,” Louis says, claiming one end of the wooden bench placed on the porch for comfort.

“I will,” Harry says. He sits just a few inches away from Louis, their thighs pressing together. Louis smiles softly when he hands Harry his wine glass.

Thunder rumbles again and then comes the first strike, brilliant as it connects with one of the metal rods and illuminates the field. Louis’s mouth pops open and Harry’s does as well, right as the darkness comes in again and the light fades.

“That was fucking sick,” Harry says. He turns to Louis with wide eyes and a smile.

“I know,” he says. “Not what I expected at all.”

There are three strikes in quick succession after that, each one pulling a gasp from Louis with an echo from Harry, the thunder and rain picking up as the show continues.

“It doesn’t seem real,” Harry says quietly in another soft moment between the action.

“Like we’re watching a performance on stage,” Louis agrees. The lightning looks like dancers, particularly how it bends and stretches when it connects to the metal poles. It’s most magical when multiple strands connect at once, like a raining of bolts from Greek mythology. The rain splatters up on the porch but not enough to touch where they’re pressed up against the house; the coolness seeping in with some of the natural warmth of the season still lingering.

It doesn’t feel as though anyone else is around. Louis knows there are cabins of people, rooms of people next to them, who are all doing the same thing. He can’t hear them, can’t see them, and it makes the entire thing feel like a bubble as he takes a sip of wine.

The road trip has been a bubble too – uninterrupted time with each other for better or for worse. He can’t help the natural comfort he feels with Harry, the sneaking suspicion it’s been there from day one.

Louis isn’t boisterous by any means, he never really has been. He wouldn’t ever call himself shy but he knows his place – when to be loud and when he should be quiet, when to tease and when to be as straightforward as possible. Harry should have made him shy. Harry in all his quiet power should have made Louis be quiet and reserved for once in his life. Instead, quite the opposite has happened.

Louis poked from day one, teased and yelled and bickered without restraint until Harry gave it right back to him with half the sass and a bit more wit. Louis assumed they annoyed each other but now, sitting here, he’s thinking about what Harry said at the lake, about being comfortable. That’s what it is. That’s what makes him feel like they’re in a bubble.  There’s no need to find other people outside of the bubble, not when they have each other.

“I’m obsessed,” Harry says with awe in his voice, his eyes stuck on the field in front of them. Louis stares at the side of his jaw before he remembers to look forward too. There’s a strike right as he does.

“Amazing,” he says quietly, finishing his wine with a long swallow. “How long do you think it goes for?”

“Some reviews on the website say it can last all night,” Harry says.

They sink into quiet after that, watching the way the lightning moves and lights up the rain, listening to the thunder as it rolls and announces each strike. It’s one of the more beautiful nights of Louis’s life and he pretends to himself that he’s not including Harry in that assessment as well.

He doesn’t really think about it when he turns his head to rest of Harry’s shoulder, the movement as natural as it would be to keep sitting up. Harry doesn’t flinch at the new weight as he drinks from his glass, the world illuminating around them once more. In the flicker of light, Louis watches as Harry reaches his hand toward Louis’s knee and then pulls back abruptly and puts his hands in his own lap.

“You can touch me,” he says softly, knowing Harry hears him in the bubble that belongs to them.

He feels Harry’s jaw move along the top of his head when he smiles and then Harry’s hand is on his knee, fingers tucked on the inner seam of Louis’s sweats. It sends as much electricity through Louis as the lightning poles have been receiving all night. He suppresses a shiver when Harry moves his hand, his fingertips tracing the seam in a gentle up and down motion.

It feels like an unintentional tease and it makes Louis a bit crazy and warm as the storm rages on. He doesn’t know what they’re doing, what it means when they kiss and then don’t talk about it. All he knows is it seems to make perfect sense when he lifts his head and kisses the side of Harry’s neck softly. It’s gentle, barely anything before he settles the side of his head back on Harry’s shoulder but Harry feels it, his hand tightening on Louis’s knee.

Louis holds his wine glass in one hand and reaches out with the other, hand falling on top of Harry’s thigh. He doesn’t imagine the intake of breath or the way Harry’s hand suddenly stills on his knee. Louis he runs his hand slowly toward the inside of his leg and then pulls back.

It’s stupid. It’s like fifteen year olds let on their own for the first time as Louis smoothes his thumb over the soft material of Harry’s pants and leans further into him. Harry’s hand doesn’t move at all, the warm pressure of it enough for Louis to know he’s there.

Louis runs his hand higher up Harry’s leg, above the tattoo he saw at the lake and then lowers to the inside of his knee before following the same path again He feels it as Harry’s muscles tense under his fingers, the staccato breath he lets out followed by a shallow inhale.

“Louis,” Harry says, breaking first.

Louis swallows and stills, suddenly scared Harry will tell him to stop, tell him there’s been a mistake in the low rolling attraction they’ve been dancing with for days. Louis keeps his hand still and lifts his head, eyes searching out Harry in the haze of another lightning strike.

“What is it?” He asks. His voice is harsher than he intends, rough after a bit of very gentle petting with a cute boy.

“Can I kiss you?”

The words hold in the quiet and Louis watches them come to life, lit up in neon and then blinking into pastels as Harry licks his lips and doesn’t break eye contact, the moment hanging in the balance.

Louis smiles slowly, the answer on the edge of his tongue. “You’ve got to stop asking me and just start doing it, babe.”

Harry takes the direction quite seriously as he kisses Louis on his next breath, his lips tasting just like wine and Harry, nothing like macaroni and cheese. Louis smiles into the kiss, his fingers curling into the baggy material of Harry’s sweats.

Harry parts Louis’s lips with his tongue and then presses closer, his free hand curving along the side of Louis’s neck. Louis feels helpless as he inhales against Harry’s mouth, trying to press himself closer. Their wine glasses click between them with the movement and they both laugh as they glance down.

“Whoops,” Harry says and Louis cuts him off with another kiss. He lets his hand trace up the front of Harry’s sweats and over the front of his sweatshirt until he gets to his neck, running his thumb along his jawline as he kisses him steadily.

Harry moves like he’s asking for it, his neck stretching to the side as Louis kisses along his impossibly sharp jaw to his neck, sucking kisses all along the muscle and then licking over them again. Harry makes breathless noises as his fingers curl into Louis’s hair, his whole body seeming to vibrate under Louis’s hands.

“Louis,” he gasps when Louis’s teeth dig into his collarbone, his sweatshirt stretched at the neck by Louis’s hand.

“Harry,” Louis whispers right up against his skin before biting at the mark he’s made again, lathing his tongue and blowing to cool it off.  It only makes Harry shiver under his lips.

“I think –,” Harry starts but it ends with a moan as Louis runs his hand over his chest and stomach again, ending on his thigh and squeezing.

“What’s that, darling?” Louis asks as he kisses up Harry’s neck, the pet name falling as easily as the kisses.

Harry tries to say something again but interrupts himself by kissing Louis. It’s harder than any other time they’ve kissed and it makes the middle of Louis’s stomach turn molten, his head tilting back easily until he remembers Harry was trying to say something.

“What were you going to say?” There’s lightning in the far edge of the field that sends only a faint glimmer of light toward where they sit. It’s enough to see the pink of Harry’s lips and the darkness of his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. Harry swallows and then smiles and it’s devastating. He could tell Louis to run right into lightning and Louis wouldn’t do it – but he’d sure as hell consider it.

“I think we should go inside,” he says, tucking his smile into a more serious smirk and Louis does nothing but nod.

They’re a mess of limbs inside, their empty wine glasses left in a tipped over display on the dresser as they try to get their hands everywhere they can, their lips following suit. It’s everything Louis didn’t realize he was waiting for as he tucks his hands under Harry’s sweatshirt and runs his hands along his skin, up high on his shoulders and then drags his fingernails gently down to make Harry gasp against his mouth. He traces his hands over Harry’s sides and the fullness of his hips, kissing him until he can’t remember anything else that would be more worthwhile.

Harry is right there for every change, his neck tilting when Louis licks up his throat and his hands holding Louis’s hips as he kisses him back, dipping lower to his ass when he kisses down the side of Louis’s neck in languid drags.

The world could end outside and Louis wouldn’t be aware, not when Harry is slowly lifting his sweatshirt up off of him, his eyes a question Louis answers with a smile. Louis takes his sweatshirt from Harry’s fingers and pulls it the rest of the way before letting it drop it to the ground along with his t-shirt, pulling Harry in closer and going up on his toes to kiss him even harder.

Harry’s hands roam without limits, as his lips follow their own path, kissing along the ink on Louis’s collarbones and biting on the muscle in his shoulder that makes Louis grip onto Harry’s hips. Harry pulls back and smiles and Louis can’t really describe what that does to him. He spins Harry in a blur so he’s tripping backward to the bed and then they’re falling into the thick white duvet, losing themselves in a cloud.

Louis gets rid of Harry’s sweatshirt next, kissing along his sternum and licking the lines of the butterfly on his stomach. Harry traces his hands through Louis’s hair but seems content to be explored as he squirms on the bed. His skin is sweet under Louis’s tongue and all he cares about is the sounds Harry keeps making, the way he bites into his own arm when Louis kisses along the ferns on his hips. He connects kisses up Harry’s stomach as his hands skirt his sides until he can look him in the face again, both of their lungs shaking for air.

Harry’s hands rest on the curve of Louis’s waist, a smile twirling across his lips. “Well, this escalated quickly,” he says.

Louis smiles and nods, his mind short circuiting over any potential words.  Harry is some kind of pretty like this, half-naked  beneath him, chest and cheeks flushed, eyes on the right side of wild. Louis leans down to kiss him again because he can, because right now it’s allowed.  Harry’s back arches as Louis pulls away, chasing the kiss unabashedly.

“What can I do?” Louis asks. His lips trail along Harry’s jaw and then he stops, brushing Harry’s hair from his forehead.

Harry traces two fingers over Louis’s cheekbone, his eyebrows pulling together just slightly. “Do when?” he asks.

“Now,” Louis says, starting another trail of kisses over Harry’s neck. “Do to you.” The words act like a spark as Harry curves up again, his hips lifting from the bed. Louis smiles against his throat.

“What do you want to do?” Harry asks, a bit breathless as Louis starts trailing down his sternum again. He’s kissed a well-worn path here the last few minutes and it feels familiar under his lips. Louis hums against Harry’s stomach and feels his muscles move under his tongue. He smiles again and looks up.

“Can I go down on you?” He trails a hand over Harry’s prominent bulge as he asks and Harry presses his hips up as his eyes close.

“Would love that,” he manages and Louis grins.

He tucks his fingers into Harry’s sweatpants and tugs, kissing along the waistband of his boxers, the sparse trail of hair connecting to his belly. Harry kicks his legs to get the pants off and nearly brains Louis in the process.

“If you kill me, you’ll have to suck your own dick,” Louis says as a warning. Harry’s smile gets wider and Louis rolls his eyes.

“I’ve tried that before, you know,” he says conversationally.

“Shut up,” Louis laughs over his words but he doesn’t really want to hear about Harry’s escapades with his own mouth. Not when he has the chance to be the one with Harry on his tongue.

Harry shuts up pretty expertly as Louis pulls his boxers off for good and throws them across the room. He has no idea where they land, his eyes caught on Harry. Louis isn’t shy to say he’s seen a lot of dicks in his life but Harry might take the metaphorical cake. He’s big – far bigger than Louis expected – and the shade of pink matches his cheeks, which is kind of ridiculous. Appearance doesn’t quite compensate when Louis actually takes him in his hand, warmth and heat pulsing against his palm. Harry moans at the same time a drip of wetness eases from his tip and Louis thinks he might go cross-eyed at the overstimulation to his senses.

Louis plays a bit more than he usually does, running his hand up and down Harry’s length, squeezing near the bottom and thumbing over the head. He’s usually a down and dirty guy, quick to the point, but Harry is so sensitive and responsive to his grip, he can’t imagine making anything go faster.

Harry reacts with his whole body to Louis’s touch, his hips lifting and abs clenching, fingers dancing over his own chest and then gripping the bed beneath him, his chin tipping up and eyes rolling back. If Louis was a photographer, this is what he’d want a picture of.

“Are you going to do something?” Harry finally grits out as he must realize Louis’s complete contentedness to just play.

“I thought this was about what I wanted?” Louis smirks at Harry’s earlier attempt of negotiation before Louis had his hands on his cock.

Harry sighs in frustration but Louis doesn’t make him wait, swooping down to take Harry in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around his tip, the salty sweet tinged by something bitter, before inching down slowly, taking as much as he can at once. Harry sighs like it’s the best thing to ever happen and Louis thinks he may kill him before either of them get off. Harry Styles is far too much to be dealt with.

Louis takes a moment to catch a rhythm with his mouth and hand, far more used to being a bit intoxicated and a bit in a hurry when he does this. Once he swore off relationships, intimacy went right with it and he’s spent a lot of nights on his knees in the bar bathroom, and then coming with his eyes on the peeling apart ceiling.

Not now.

Now he’s got Harry spread out on his back, on a bed with a storm raging around outside. He’s going to take his damn time.

Harry isn’t exactly patient, his hips pressing up and making Louis gag around him but Louis knows how to remedy the situation.  He pins Harry’s hips to the bed and works him over with just his mouth, the string of curses falling from Harry’s lips more than worth it.

Louis tightens his lips and digs his fingernails into the softness of Harry’s hips, surprised by the way he goes immediately pliant, the moan lower and drawn out. Louis breathes through his nose as he works, twisting his tongue in the way that’s gotten him rave reviews, and then sucking a mark at the very base of Harry’s cock in the way that makes Harry yell out like there’s a fire in the next room. That gets Louis to sit up quickly.

“Baby,” he says without thinking, “Remember how we’re sharing this house with two other rooms of people? Do you really want them to hear you?”

Harry actually glares at Louis. “If you would stop doing all of that with your tongue, I wouldn’t have to be so loud.”

Louis laughs, his hand slowing on Harry’s dick. “Was that a legitimate request for me to stop? If you want to get off with your hand, you can.”

Harry shakes his head, “No, that’s not what I meant.”

Louis tilts his head, squeezing the base of Harry’s cock and pressing his fingertips into the mark he’s made. “And what is it you are trying to say?”

Harry shakes his head, running his hands over his face. “You are the biggest tease in all of New Mexico.” They both laugh at that and then Louis shifts so he can get his mouth on Harry again.

“Keep quiet, H,” he says just before he takes him between his lips.

Harry really doesn’t listen. His quiet gasps turn into guttural moans and it makes Louis feel like a world class blow job champion but does nothing for keeping their activities private.

“You’re a loud one,” he muses, kissing up Harry’s stomach and keeping a steady hand on his cock. His own cock is heavy between his legs, each sound Harry makes somehow making him harder. He wants Harry’s pink lips wrapped around him sooner rather than later.

“You’re really good at that.” Harry sounds half breathless and half in disbelief; Louis laughs just over the edge of his collarbone. He detours to bite on Harry’s nipple and gets a satisfying groan out of that.

“How are we going to keep you quiet?” Louis asks quietly against Harry’s neck, his mouth trailing up over his jaw until he kisses his lips. Harry’s answer doesn’t come as their tongues twist together and Harry’s mouth falls open to Louis’s lips.

He pulls Harry with his hand, a tight grip as he kisses him deeply, all of Harry’s moans and soft sounds getting lost right into Louis’s mouth. It seems to do the trick to keep him quiet until Louis pulls back to whisper, “You gonna come for me?” and then Harry loses it, gasping into a louder groan as his cock twitches and the warm wetness slips over Louis’s hand and his own belly.

“Guess that’s a yes,” Louis mutters, kissing him softly and then sucking on the edge of his jaw as he slows his hand to bring him back down, the last few strands of come making his fingers sticky.

Louis lets Harry go when he hisses with sensitivity and pulls his messy hand up between them. He smiles as he wipes it on Harry’s chest and Harry rolls his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. He swallows when Louis sucks his pointer finger into his mouth and licks it clean. Louis smiles at that too.

“Thanks,” Harry says a moment later once Louis has kissed him so he can taste his come on Louis’s tongue.

“For the blow job?” Louis raises his eyebrow, “You’re really thanking me?”

Harry smiles, “Or I can return the favor instead?”

Louis doesn’t really like the idea of blow jobs being favors but when it comes to Harry, he isn’t too picky about verbiage.

“I would love that,” he says, echoing Harry’s sentiment from before.  Harry smiles lazily. “How do you want me?”

Harry’s hands trace up over Louis’s thighs straddling his hips, over the bulge in the front of his sweats, and then he smirks. As if Louis could suck him off and not get hard in the process.

“Like this,” Harry says, his smile still stuck.

“How?” Louis asks, still confused.

Harry tucks his hands under Louis’s thighs and grips as he tugs him up his chest so Louis is sitting over his ribs. “Like this,” Harry says again. “Fuck my face.”

Louis might white out at the words or maybe because of Harry’s filthy smile that goes along with it. Something about it sends his body into overdrive and has sweat prickling his spine.

“Yeah, alright,” he says with a shrug as if this isn’t the best offer he’s received in his entire life of receiving blow jobs.

It’s a trick getting his sweats and boxers down his thighs but then he’s guiding his dick between Harry’s plush, bitten-red lips and nothing else really seems to matter.

Harry’s mouth is warm and tight, his tongue exploring all around Louis’s length like he’s memorizing it. He wraps his hands over Louis’s hips as he guides him, slow at first and then a bit harder once he finds a rhythm he likes.

Louis bites down on his back molars to keep from shooting off immediately – it’s just that Harry’s messy hair and flushed face, green eyes and perfect bone structure is a lot for him to handle all at once. Not to mention his mouth, sinful in every possible way, and his wicked tongue.

“This keeps you quiet, huh?” Louis asks quietly. He has no idea why his mouth is taking off with such speed tonight; Harry must bring it out in him. “A cock in your mouth?” Harry moans around him and the vibrations make Louis gasp, as loud in the quiet room as all the times he chastised Harry about.

If Louis thought he was riding a thin edge, it gets a bit worse when Harry let’s go of his hips and stretches his arms up over his head, fingers curling around the support beams of the headboard.  Louis thinks he knows what he’s asking for but he pulls from Harry’s mouth to confirm.

“You want me to do it myself now?” He brushes his fingers through the front of Harry’s hair as Harry nods. “Tell me if it’s too much, yeah? Pinch me.”

Harry is a little shit because he reaches up and pinches Louis’s nipple right then, hard. It makes Louis squeak in a very undignified way.

“What was that for?”

“Testing the alarm system,” Harry says, his laughter bubbling over his words.

Louis laughs and shakes his head, at a loss. Harry is too much – hot as he is pretty, funny as he is annoying, fucking ridiculous as he is a fucking minx.

“Get your hand back up there,” he says with only a little heat in his words. He points at the bar and Harry reaches his arm back up, fingers twisting around the beam again. “Good boy,” Louis says with a flick of his eyebrows and Harry rolls his eyes.

From there, Louis can’t find it in himself to joke anymore, his hips rolling forward into Harry’s mouth, the warm heat of his throat meeting each press. Louis braces his hands on Harry’s biceps and curses as he sways his hips, careful of Harry’s gag reflex and losing himself in the tightness of his mouth.

The edge of his orgasm curls in the bottom of his stomach and he tries to hold out before the heat licks his ribs and he has to pull back, his dick slipping from Harry’s mouth with a syrupy pop.

“Come on my face,” Harry asks before Louis can suggest it because, honestly, coming on Harry’s face should be the star of all his future wet dreams. It’s only made better when Harry opens his mouth and presents his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed. Louis’s hand has to pull only a few times before he’s spilling in hot ropes across Harry’s face, splattering against his tongue and eyelashes, painting over his cheek and jaw.

“Oh my fuck,” Louis breathes as he comes down, his cock pulsing in his hand and his heart searching for a way out through his chest. He slides down Harry’s torso to straddle his hips rather than his chest.

“Yeah?” Harry asks with a sly smile, his tongue tracing his lips to taste Louis’s come. Louis swears his dick twitches.

“Hang on, babe,” he says, noticing Harry’s eyes are still closed. He thumbs over his eyelashes to clear them of come and hushes Harry when he squirms at the movement. “There you go,” he says quietly, rubbing his thumbs on Harry’s shoulders instead.

Harry scowls but his eyes shine when he opens them, a beautiful dark green in the glow of the lamp on the table. Louis can’t help it when he leans forward to kiss him again, not leading anywhere but only to taste his lips again. Harry kisses back just as earnestly, his hands slipping from the headboard to find Louis’s hips. It feels on the edge of too intimate, now that they’re both naked and sated, kissing in the lamplight. Louis pulls back first.

“We should have been doing that all along,” he says, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. He knows he’s cheapened the moment but Harry laughs along with him; Louis must imagine the flicker in his eyes just before he does.

“Storm is over,” Harry says, turning his head toward the glass doors.

“Guess so.” Louis follows his gaze out into the dark field, knowing if anyone happened to walk out there, they would have been in full view of quite the exhibitionist show. Whoops.

“You want to shower first?” Louis asks as he climbs off of Harry and stands on solid ground again.

“Considering I’m covered in both of our come? Yes,” he says as he sits up. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Louis pulls on his discarded sweats while Harry showers and uses his t-shirt to rub over his body, though he got the cleaner end of the deal.

It’s well past midnight and the house is quiet as he clears their dinner bowls and empty wine glasses to the kitchen. His skin is still buzzing pleasantly from the way the night has turned and he finds himself smiling like a dope as he puts their dishes in the dishwasher. There are a few plates and mugs already in there which Louis uses as confirmation they weren’t alone tonight. Though he gave Harry all the warnings his sex-addled brain could muster, he doubts either one of them were quiet enough to make it a mystery what they were up to.

Louis stomach growls slightly as he scratches the bottom of his belly, stretching out his neck. Harry’s bananas are on the counter but they don’t quite seem appealing. Not to him at least. His eyes fall to the last box of macaroni and he smiles.

Harry finds him in the kitchen pouring the packet of noodles into the boiling water, mixing them with a wooden spoon. He doesn’t hear Harry at first until Harry’s hands snake around his bare hips and rest on his stomach. Louis barely jolts as he leans into it, letting Harry kiss the side of his neck twice and then bite gently on the side of his ear.

He shouldn’t indulge. He knows he shouldn’t. Not when they don’t talk about things like this, not when they just shared mutual orgasms without ground rules, not when he feels so comfortable in Harry’s arms he doesn’t want to let go. He does it anyway and tilts his head to kiss Harry over his shoulder, smelling the strawberries of his shampoo in an intoxicating fashion.

“Making macaroni,” he says when they pull away.

“I see that,” Harry says.

Louis pulls from his arms with another chaste kiss to add in the milk and butter while Harry sits on the counter. He’s only in a pair of boxers and his pink crew neck and he looks completely happy, a soft smile on his face, his hair half dry.

“I’ll finish,” he says once Louis measures out the correct amounts and sets it next to where the noodles are cooking. “You go shower?”

“Yeah?” Louis tilts his head, “You think you can manage macaroni?”

Harry rolls his eyes and tries to kick Louis from his perch but Louis is faster.

*

The shower relaxes Louis’s muscles into near oblivion, the warm water as effective as a drug as he stays under it for far too long. He tries not to overanalyze whatever has happened with Harry, what it might mean. The truth is it probably means nothing and confronting whether he likes that truth is another task for another time.

Harry is in the bed when Louis comes out, the extra pillows thrown on the ground and two on each side pushed up against the headboard. Louis pulls on a fresh pair of boxers and turns out the bathroom light before getting in on the empty side of the bed.

“Of course you took the side closest to the window,” he mutters as he adjusts the sheets and Harry steadies the bowls of macaroni between them.

“Sorry,” Harry says, not sounding it at all. He offers Louis his bowl of macaroni with an almost sweet smile. Louis forgives him.

They both dig into the macaroni at the same time; somehow the cheesy saltiness tasting as good as it did two hours ago, unhealthy as ever too.

“Tell me I’m a genius for buying three boxes,” Louis says with his mouthful. Harry laughs.

“I was thinking about the snacks back at Lover’s Lane when I was in the shower,” Harry says. “The sex snacks and how convenient it would be to have food ready to go when I got out.”

“Glad I could be of service, then,” Louis says. He salutes Harry with his fork and a wink.

Silence melts around them, their forks scraping the bottoms of their bowls as the finish eating. Louis feels the weight of the day in his bones, his eyes barely staying open. He sets Harry’s bowl with his on the nightstand and turns off the light as they both fully get under the covers, their hips and thighs brushing, ankles knocking as they adjust. Louis wonders vaguely if he should build the pillow barrier he built the night they slept in the Jeep but then he thinks about the way he knows what Harry’s come tastes like and lets it go.

Louis barely settles into his pillow when Harry clears his throat. “Louis?”

“Yes, Harry,” he hums, eyes closing slowly.

“Do you like to cuddle?”

Louis snorts when he laughs. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” Harry says, voice small. Louis cracks an eye open to see Harry rolling onto his side, his back to Louis in the moonlight.

“Harry,” Louis says, opening both eyes.

“Yeah?”

Louis takes a deep breath and asks on the exhale, “Do _you_ like to cuddle?”

“Yes,” Harry says, no shyness in his tone.

“Interesting,” Louis says without moving. He watches the tense line of Harry’s shoulders in the dull light and he can’t help himself as he scoots forward to press against Harry’s back. It’s kind of worth it for the way Harry melts right into him; his breath pushed in a whoosh as Louis drapes his arm over Harry’s hip and lets his palm rest on his stomach.

“Like this?” He asks quietly, his lips brushing the back of Harry’s shoulder unintentionally.

“Yes,” Harry breathes.

Louis pulls him in a bit tighter and tells himself he’s doing it for Harry. He’s just doing it to round out their night of breaking rules and being too close, that’s all. In the morning, it’ll be different. In the morning he won’t want to kiss, touch or hold Harry anymore. It’s a onetime thing.

He falls asleep with his face pressed to the back of Harry’s neck and he thinks, even then, he knows he’s lying.

*

**[DAY TEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165956498739/day-ten-petrified-forest-national-park-and-the) **

Pie Town, New Mexico

 

Morning comes in with a slow sunrise that pulls Louis from sleep as he blinks awake. The view out the windows is breathtaking and it catches his attention first, the rolling plains of New Mexico unbroken from the storm overnight; like it was all a fever dream. Louis inhales and focuses on the steady warmth all along his front and dark hair brushing under his nose next.

He didn't separate from Harry during the night; his subconscious clearly didn't take his late night mantras to heart and make him want to hold Harry any less while he was sleeping. If anything, he's pressed closer to Harry than when he fell asleep, well aware of his ankle slipped between Harry's bony ones, his hand flat on Harry's stomach and measuring each breath he takes under his palm.

Louis isn't as startled as he expects; instead, he feels warm and lazy as he registers the press of Harry's bare skin against his thighs and up to his chest. If Harry were awake, he could probably feel Louis's heartbeat through the back of his ribs. Louis breathes slowly and feels like he could melt right back into sleep like this, pressed tight together. He lets his eyes flutter closed for the moment, imagines what it would be like to wake up again with Harry in a few hours.

If the circumstances were different, perhaps they'd wake up with warm kisses and sloppy blow jobs, laugh about the sheer amount of macaroni they ate in a three hour period the night before, joke about how ridiculous a thing like a lightning field even is.

He didn't have a headache when he opened his eyes first but he can feel one swerving in slowly. He takes a deep breath, fills his lungs and then fills his stomach when he exhales. They may have blurred too many lines overnight but Louis knows for sure that they can't wake up together, not like this. Louis pulls back with more effort than it should take and notices a chill in the room he didn't feel before; or, maybe, he's already missing Harry like a physical ache.

 

*

Harry is up when Louis comes out of the shower twenty minutes later.

He's sitting on the bed in jean shorts and a green sweatshirt, his legs tucked up under him with his camera in his lap. It's quiet except for his thumb clicking through the navigation button on the back.

All of the clothes strewn around the floor from last night are gone, Louis's stacked neatly by his backpack. Round two of the macaroni has disappeared and even the bed has been haphazardly put back together where Harry sits. If anyone had to guess, it's just another morning same as the others. Nothing has changed, nothing is different.

Louis gets dressed quietly in his jean shorts and light pink tank top with a grey zip hoodie over the top. He puts on socks and his tennis shoes sitting on the opposite side of the bed from Harry, trying, desperately, to think of what to say to break the tension.

Nothing comes.

"Ready?" Harry asks first when Louis zips up his bag with an air of finality.

"Yeah," Louis says lamely. "You?"

Harry is bent over his own bag and Louis tries not to stare at his thighs - thighs that might have bite marks on them from his own mouth. Harry stands and holds up his toothbrush. "Just need to brush my teeth," he says, already heading for the bathroom.

Louis grabs his bag and slips it over his shoulder, checking around for anything he's forgotten. He knocks lightly on the bathroom door and calls that he'll meet Harry at the car. Maybe a few extra minutes will help him organize his head; organize the uneven beating of his fucking heart.

 

*

Louis gets to the car only to realize Harry still has the keys so he has to wait by the front bumper like a sullen teenager until Harry finally makes it to the parking lot.

“Louis,” he says with a smile when he’s close enough, “I have a surprise for you.”

Louis crosses his arms still unsure how he wants to play it around Harry. How he wants to hide the fact he can’t stop thinking about last night. “Oh, do you?”

“Yep.” Harry punctuates the sentence by unlocking the doors to the car. Louis doesn’t move.

“Are you going to tell me the surprise or what?”

Harry grins. “We’ve officially made it back on track Route 66 so the itinerary can continue.”

Louis blinks and can’t pinpoint why his gut feels the impact of the statement. “I thought we were having a good time being adventurous,” he says. “Is Mr. Itinerary back from vacation?”

Harry rolls his eyes and Louis can’t help the way his lips twitch into an almost smile. Regardless of how Louis wants to play it, Harry will always throw him off of his game.

“The timeline is essentially fucked now,” Harry explains as they put their bags in the backseat. What had started as an orderly pile of things in the trunk of the car has now spread to a mash of things everywhere.

“That can’t possibly be true.” They’ve driven enough long stretches, Louis is sure they’ve caught up with the timeline by now.

Harry shrugs, “We’re running half a day behind but we can still do everything I planned.”

“What did you have planned next?” Louis asks hesitantly. They’ve been on a streak of interesting tourist spots - making out on cars and blow jobs included.

“Petrified Forest National Park.” Harry actually sounds excited about it and Louis feels like they’ve taken two steps backwards.

Louis sighs loudly, “And here I thought it was going to be something fun.”

“It’ll be fun,” Harry says, throwing another smile at Louis before getting in the car.

Louis rolls his eyes and sighs as he shuts his own door. It’s quiet for a moment and he thinks maybe Harry will say something about last night but the silence leaks into another moment. Louis swallows, still waiting. There’s clearly an elephant sitting on the center console between them and clearly they aren’t planning to talk about it.

“Starting route to the Petrified Forest National Park,” in Siri’s clipped monotone echoes over the speakers. Louis glances over as Harry sets his phone up for navigation.

“Ready?” Harry asks, meeting Louis’s gaze.

Louis shrugs as if he has a choice. Harry takes that as answer enough as he pulls out of the parking lot and they leave the fields of lightning behind. Louis isn’t sure leaving behind the baggage they created last night will be quite as easy.

*

They don't make it very far down the road before Harry detours into a kitschy diner just off the highway with a sheepish smile. "I'm kind of hungry," he says.

Like most of the diners they've come across on Route 66, this one is themed for its location with highway signs and maps plastered on all of the walls. It's fairly busy considering they're on time for the breakfast rush but they get a corner booth with two cups of hot coffee easily.

Louis finds it hard to hold Harry’s eyes for too long as they look over the menu and debate the pros and cons of waffles against pancakes like it’s any other day. Louis nearly blurts out, “I’ve had your cock in my mouth,” but bites his tongue at the last moment.

It’s not as though he’s never shared a meal with the same person he’s slept with but usually there are established boundaries, usually someone has already acknowledged the fact they swapped bodily fluids. Harry asks about Louis’s stance on blueberries in pancakes and Louis doesn’t think they’re going to get very far in the case of acknowledgement. At least not like this.

Maybe this is how it’s going to work, he thinks as Harry orders from the waitress. Maybe they’ll kiss on top of cars and make each other come to the sound of the thunder but they won’t talk about it. Maybe Louis will have to be okay with that.

“Louis?”

He looks up at Harry's voice, blinking his dry eyes from staring at the table. Harry looks concerned as he nudges his head toward the waitress now waiting expectantly for Louis's order.

"Sorry," he mutters and then points at the first thing he sees, a southwestern breakfast skillet. Seems fitting for their location.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks quietly once the waitress leaves, his eyebrows pulling together and his eyes searching Louis's face.

Louis looks out the window, nervous about what Harry will find in his expression. "Tired," he says. What would happen if he told Harry he was the opposite of tired - well rested because he'd slept so comfortably with Harry in his arms? He doesn’t really know the answer.

"Guess I can snooze while you drive," Louis says looking over again. "Sucker."

Harry smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. For the first time Louis wonders if Harry was more affected by the night than he’s letting on.

Not that it even matters.

Louis rubs his hands over his face and lifts his coffee mug with both hands. He sips without looking at Harry. They have to get through this – this awkward lump they’re currently stuck on.

He looks up to tell Harry a joke – a joke he hasn’t even thought of but something that will cut the icy air only to find Harry already staring at him. He blushes and looks away, half a smile curling on his lips but only because he’s been caught. Louis clears his throat.

Maybe it’s not as easy to clear as telling a joke. Maybe it’s more like a sprained ankle and they need to walk off the after effects until it feels better. Just a sprained ankle.

*

Two hours in complete silence in the car makes it feel more like a broken leg than a sprained ankle. It’s obvious there is something sitting between them that they aren’t talking about, obvious they both know it’s there.

Harry gets out of the car first at the park and Louis sits in the quiet for a moment more. He runs his hands along the tops of his thighs and takes a deep breath. It feels like the moment before a big game, his stomach tied in knots. There’s no way he’ll survive the rest of the day – the rest of the trip – in this odd limbo of whether or not a one night stand is important enough to mention. If he has to act like it’s nothing, put on the brave face to get them both through it, he will. If walking off the sprained ankle won’t work, he’ll force it.

*

Louis has always been the mediator in his family. The one who keeps a calm face when everyone panics, the one who can make the younger kids stop crying when things aren’t fun. He’s pretty good at pushing his emotions behind his heart and putting on a happy face.

It turns out a day with Harry is no exception.

He starts by getting out of the car and making fun of Harry’s untied converse shoes and then tapping his toe impatiently while Harry ties him. Harry stands up with a smirk that actually touches his eyes and Louis thinks maybe they’ll be alright.

The Petrified Forest is nothing to write home about. In fact, Louis feels himself forgetting it even as they walk through the trails showing off the bits of petrified wood and the forests frozen forever. He tells Harry as much and Harry rolls his eyes before taking another picture.

“You realize it’s remarkable it’s even here, right?” Harry asks, pulling his camera away from his face. “This was all covered in a volcanic explosion and could have easily burned up. Then it was covered for millions of years and it could have stayed that way.”

“Lucky for us it didn’t,” Louis says, crossing his arms. Harry gives him a blank stare he’s given him for a full week when he says something sarcastic except this time Louis kind of wants to kiss it off his face. It’s a problem.

As if Harry can tell, he clears his throat and keeps walking. Louis follows quickly.

The wood is boring but Louis can find the higher merits in it when he tries, the brighter colors hidden beneath the bark, the rainbows twisting through the edges.

“It’s kind of crazy,” Harry muses as they look out over an entire patch of toppled logs. “To think something like this exists now. Something that was around when the dinosaurs were.”

Louis scoffs before he realizes Harry is serious. “Dinosaurs? Harry, honestly.”

“It was,” Harry says, a bit petulant. “I read an article about it.”

Louis isn’t sure that qualifies as foolproof knowledge but he lets it go.

“Can you go with something for a second?” Harry is smiling when Louis looks over with a raised eyebrow.

“Go with what?”

Harry licks his bottom lip and smiles. “Something you’ll think is really dumb.”

Louis sighs loudly, “Go on.”

“I know trees can’t think for themselves but it’s kind of interesting how like, they were at their most beautiful when they were fully alive –“

“With the dinosaurs,” Louis interrupts and Harry flips him off.

“And then there was a volcanic explosion that took them out and made them dismembered and ugly, you know?”

Louis catches where Harry is going before he says it. “But then a million years later they came out looking even better than they were at their best?”

Harry smiles and it's shy, like he’s waiting for Louis to tell him he’s ridiculous. Which, he is – but he happens to be Louis’s favorite brand of ridiculousness lately.

“It says something about legacies,” Harry says, scratching his eyebrow. “That’s what I was thinking. You may think you’re having an effect on the world or on a life but you might not be around to actually see the way it all shakes out. Even at your best you still may get better.”

Louis opens his mouth and then shuts it. He doesn’t even want to make fun of Harry. He wants to lay out a blanket right here and hear every silly thought in Harry’s brain – he wants to debate the color of dawn and what is at the very bottom of the ocean. Like a wave, he feels the urge to hear everything Harry has to say and any other things he thinks about when he’s looking at a bunch of dead trees on the ground.

Louis runs his teeth over his lip, shaking his head slowly. Harry Styles is not a sprained ankle.

“What do you want your legacy to be?” Louis asks, turning his body to face Harry. He feels like he has to know now, like it’s urgent.

“That’s a huge fucking question,” Harry says with wide eyes and Louis has to laugh. For all of Harry’s introspection, things can still trip him up.

“I know,” Louis says. “Just off the top of your head, go.”

Harry takes a deep breath and looks up at the sky. Right when Louis gets impatient, he meets his eyes. “I want to live a life in love,” he says. “I want to be in love with my life, every moment of it, even the moments that aren’t so great.”

Louis blinks, “How do you do that?”

Harry smiles, “I don’t know. It’s a work in progress maybe.”

Louis tilts his head, “Maybe like the home thing. Home is not a place but a person, being in love with your life is not a full stop but a promise.”

Harry rubs his lips together but doesn’t laugh. “You lost me.”

Louis rubs his forehead, “I lost myself, honestly. I think that deciding to fall in love with your life doesn’t happen right away, but in the end. When you look back, you know if you were in love. If all the shitty moments were actually paving the way for bigger and better ones.” Harry nods right along with Louis’s words and it makes him smile.

“That’s it, yeah,” he says. “I guess I want my legacy to be built throughout my life and when I get to the end, I know it’s settled. I did what I could, loved with what I had. Ended up happy, hopefully.”

Louis purses his lips. “For someone who is so pessimistic about love, you seem pretty hell bent on finding it again. Filling up your whole life with it.”

Harry shakes his head, “I wasn’t burned by love. I was burned by infatuation.”

“Infatuation can break your heart?” Louis asks, no judgement only curiosity.

“Worse than love,” Harry says. “You never see it coming because you’re blind to your own weakness. With love, I think you know the weaknesses and the scars. You fall despite all that.”

Louis shakes his head, “You’re something else, Harry Styles.”

Harry laughs as they start back down the path. “That’s not the first time you’ve said that to me.” Louis throws a grin over his shoulder. “Lou, you didn’t say what your legacy would be,” Harry says after a minute or so.

“I know.” Louis takes a few paces backward to smile at Harry. “I don’t know what it would be. That’s a huge fucking question Styles.”

“You made me answer it,” Harry accuses and Louis can almost see his eyebrows pulling together without even looking.

“It’s not my fault you like to do what I say.” Louis has a flash of a memory of telling Harry to put his hands on the headboard last night and loses his train of thought completely, heat rushing from his toes up to his head. Harry says something else and Louis laughs instinctually but he doesn’t really listen. Harry Styles is definitely not a sprained ankle; he’s not going to walk this one off anytime soon.

*

The Painted Desert is only a few miles up the road and a bit more interesting than the petrified trees. Only a bit. The mountains and small canyons are impressively colored – red rocks with white, orange and purple accents – and there’s an endless blue sky overhead. It’s not as aggressively warm as Louis expects from a desert, though he does ditch his sweatshirt before they get out of the car for Harry to take more photos.

Louis wanders toward one of the smaller gift shops to buy them some water and then they perch on a boulder overlooking the desert, the multi-colored hues all coming together like an enchanted canyon from the vantage point.

“I didn’t think it would be this pretty,” Louis admits. He leans back on his palms and tips his head back toward the sun, closing his eyes.

“It’s not like you’re even looking,” Harry comments. Louis opens one eye to see Harry in his same position, both eyes closed and he smiles.

“You’re not either,” Louis says. “And don’t lie; I’m looking right at you.”

Harry opens his eyes and tilts his head back down, smiling slowly. “Caught me.”

Louis presses his lips together and closes his eyes again. He swears he can feel the sun all the way in his bones, warming him from the inside out on the edge of the cliff. There are scattered sounds in the desert but he’s most aware of Harry breathing next to him, like his ears have become tuned into the sound over time.

“It is pretty,” Harry says eventually and this time when Louis looks at him his gaze is actually cast over the desert.

“More colors than I thought there’d be,” Louis says, blinking against the sunlight. He really needs to bring his sunglasses the next time they get out of the car.

“Definitely not as hot,” Harry says, reclining back until he’s lying flat. The ground is dusty and Louis is sure there are bugs but Harry doesn’t seem to mind. He pulls the edge of his shirt up to his chest to expose his belly to the sun. Louis has to look away.

“Would you actually have done all this if you were alone?” Louis asks after silence lapses again.

“Done what?” Harry doesn’t open his eyes or lift his head, his fingers tapping against the butterfly on his stomach.

“Everything,” Louis says. “Swimming at Blue Hole and going to the Lightning Field, laying here with your shirt halfway off.”

Harry lifts his head and squints at Louis, one hand blocking the sun from his eyes. “I think so, yeah.”

Louis stretches his legs out in front of him, “Wouldn’t it have been lonely?”

Harry sits up and his shirt falls only part of the way back in place. “I don’t really get lonely.”

Louis gapes, “What?”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugs, “I guess I’m just good at being with myself. I don’t mind it.”

“I would have gone stir crazy if it was just me and the open road,” Louis admits freely. He’s not built for being alone with only his thoughts for company.

“I would suggest not planning a solo road trip, then,” Harry says, smiling wryly.

“Guess not,” Louis mutters.

It’s only quiet for a moment before Harry looks over again. “Were you trying to get me to say this has all been better because you came with me?”

Louis’s laughter surprises even him. “Definitely not,” he says. “That didn’t cross my mind actually.”

“Oh,” Harry says, nodding and looking back toward the desert.

Louis feels as though he’s missed something. “Is that what you wanted me to say?”

Harry shakes his head. “No. It has been, though. I would have had fun by myself but I do enjoy having you with me.”

“I thought you liked to be alone,” Louis says, squinting with a grin over his lips.

“Sometimes that can be trumped by the right company.”

Louis puts a hand over his heart and gasps. “Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart?”

Harry rolls his eyes and stands up, dusting off his shorts. “Whatever. Ready to go?”

Louis nods and stands slowly, feeling whiplash from the conversation. “Yeah,” he says lamely following after Harry to the car. He replays the conversation as they walk, trying to figure out the reason for Harry’s moody turn but comes up empty.

*

The Jeep is hot after baking in the sun for a few hours so Louis rolls all the windows down as they speed on I-80 toward Holbrook. Harry said something about a rock shop he wanted to go to in the town but he said it so quietly Louis couldn’t even tease him for it.

He can’t help himself looking over at Harry as they drive mostly because Harry refuses to look at him. He keeps his eyes out the opposite window and doesn’t even comment when Louis attempts to hit the same high notes as Sam Smith when his record comes on.

Louis doesn’t get it – what happened or what changed while they were sunbathing. It’s the most innocent activity they’ve done in the last twenty-four hours but for some reason it’s put everything in a weird limbo. He feels itchy with heat and with tension, the quiet getting louder in the silent moments between songs switching on the playlist.

He’s in the middle of figuring out how to break it when he spots a faded blue sign with a scratched up ‘Swimming Area’ in white lettering.  He slams the breaks and turns the car at the same time which gets Harry to finally speak even if it is, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” as the car skids along a gravel trail.

“Sorry,” Louis apologizes with a grin, adrenaline twirling in his stomach as he navigates the Jeep on the narrow road.

“What are you doing?” Harry yells at him, the loudest Louis has ever heard him by far.

“We’re going on an adventure,” Louis calls back, eyes on the road as he follows the next sign for swimming.

“Fuck.” Harry slams his hands on the dashboard as they go over a particularly vicious bump. “Fuck you and your adventures.”

“Don’t be rude,” Louis hollers back over the crunching gravel, his smile becoming permanent. The faded sign must not have been a good enough invitation to other passing travelers because there are no other cars at the base of the hill, a small gravel parking lot with overgrown bushes. The car jolts when Louis hits the brakes again and then he turns off the ignition, silence swarming them both immediately.

Harry is staring at Louis with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. He looks like he could inflict some serious damage if his eyes were lasers. Louis swallows but doesn’t lose his nerve.

“We’re going swimming.”

Harry blinks rapidly and Louis smiles before getting out of the car. He pulls his tank top over his head and then sets about untying his shoes while Harry sits motionless in the car. Louis stands up once his feet are bare, the gravel rough under his toes. It’s kind of worth it for the dumb look on Harry’s face, the way his eyes keep bouncing from Louis’s chest to his stomach to his eyes, his lips parted.

“Are you going to make me go alone?” Louis asks, tilting his head. If he had to guess, he’d say he’s straddling a thin line between making Harry laugh and making him start to yell again.

“What the fuck?” is what Louis gets instead. Whispered and half in disbelief as Harry stares at him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Louis Tomlinson, baby,” Louis says with a quick wink. “And I’m taking you swimming. Come on.” Louis isn’t sure he’s got Harry all the way on board but he catches his eye as he undoes his jean shorts and hooks his thumbs in the sides, swaying his hips as they slide down. If someone asked him what he’s planning to accomplish, he wouldn’t really have an answer.

He steps out of his shorts and tosses them in the front seat, standing only in his boxers on the edge of an unnamed lake in Arizona. It’s ridiculous and sends a flurry of fizz up his stomach. Harry is still staring, still unmoving with no signs of actually moving anytime soon.

Louis had hoped to crack through the weird tension between them. He thought doing something this stupid would shake them out of the rut they’ve put themselves in. Considering he’s standing outside in his boxers and Harry doesn’t look impressed, he doesn’t think it is working very well.  He knows he can’t back down now, not with his pride still intact, so he tosses one more smile at Harry and then starts off toward the dock. For some reason, walking out there alone isn’t as invigorating as the thought of having Harry beside him.

He’s thinking how walking the dock will feel like walking the plank when he hears the reverb of the car door slamming. He pauses and looks back to see Harry running full speed at him, his shirt already gone as he hops around on one leg kicking his shoes off and then his socks. Louis covers his mouth in a weak attempt at hiding his laughter.

“Fucking shit that hurts,” Harry howls as he walks along the gravel, picking up his knees higher like that will help.

“You’re leaving a trail of clothes like Hansel and Gretel,” Louis says as soon as Harry is close enough. He motions back at the string of clothes and Harry does too. He shrugs.

The last piece to go is Harry’s jean shorts and then they’re standing at the bottom of the dock in just their boxers, heading right for the edge and the lake beyond.

“Do we run?” Harry asks, glancing over. There’s a smile playing around on his lips and Louis’s heart feels like it’s glowing as he licks his bottom lip.

“Should we?” He says as he starts to do it anyway, Harry catching his step easily.

They both start laughing as they cross the halfway point and then they’re sprinting like it’s a race, Harry launching himself off the edge of the dock just before Louis, their splashes almost simultaneous as they go under.

The water is icy and sends shivers up Louis’s spine as he fights to surface again, gasping for air when he does, his heart pounding with shock and adrenaline all at once. Harry pops up with the same gasp only a couple of feet away, grinning. When they catch each other’s eye they both start laughing as they tread water up to their chests, hair sticking up oddly on their heads.

“This is so stupid,” Harry says over his smile, paddling closer to Louis as he does.

“I know,” Louis says as he catches his breath. “But it’s an adventure.”

Just as his heartbeat starts to settle, it gets thrown into a frenzy again as Harry moves fully into his space, his smile slipping as the water between them squelches out into nothing. Louis isn’t prepared when Harry kisses him, his breath completely punched out as he tries to stay upright under Harry’s lips, his hands grabbing onto Harry as their legs twist together underwater.

It hardly works and they end up spluttering against each other, warm breath against cool skin. Louis doesn’t give it up, though, tilting his head for a better angle as he kisses Harry again. Their chests press together in the water, heartbeats ricocheting off their ribs. This is the problem, he thinks, even as he gasps into Harry’s mouth. They kiss like this and then try to act like nothing has happened.  Louis  slows their kisses, pulling back slightly.

“Harry.” He spits out some lake water and moves his hands to Harry’s shoulders as Harry opens his eyes. His cheeks are pink and his lips are kissed red, his green eyes curious as he looks at Louis. “We have to talk about this.”

Harry ignores him or doesn’t hear him because he’s kissing Louis again, his hands up in Louis’s hair like he’s holding on until Louis pulls away again.

“Harry,” he repeats, more forcefully.

Harry shakes his head this time, kissing Louis’s jaw once before he looks up. “We don’t,” he says. “We don’t have to talk.”

“Harry,” Louis starts for a third time but it comes out quietly as he kisses Harry again, softly, memorizing the taste of his lips. “Okay,” he says between kisses. “Okay.”

Harry pulls away next, flipping under the water and coming back up a few feet further and challenging Louis to a race to the other side of the lake. Louis takes off immediately but they barely make it halfway before they simultaneously declare the distance too far. They swim around a bit more in the middle and float around on their backs as they make it back toward the shore.

They don’t kiss again as they climb out of the lake, their boxers sticking too tightly to their skin. Louis does pinch the curve of Harry’s ass because he can’t help it and then runs full speed toward the Jeep with a squeal.

Breathless with laughter, they change on different sides of the car, putting on dry boxers and their old clothes before getting back inside. Louis’s lips tingle from the sun and the lake water, but mostly from Harry. He navigates the car back to the highway and then starts off toward Holbrook again. Harry puts on Shania Twain and sings at the top of his lungs and Louis laughs louder than he has all day. True to his word, true to Harry’s request – they don’t talk about it.  

*

[Holbrook](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165957284884/day-ten-rainbow-rock-shop-romos-cafe-x-x-x) is less than an hour down the road and Harry takes over navigation pointing toward a large green dinosaur on the corner. Large doesn’t even begin to cover it as the thing looms over the building closest to it with a few smaller dinosaurs around it.

“H,” Louis says as they slow the car, “What the fuck is this?”

“Rainbow Rock Shop,” Harry says simply already undoing his seatbelt.

Louis pulls into the only open spot in the small parking lot. “My lake adventure was more fun.”

“Maybe so,” Harry says easily. “But it didn’t include a giant dinosaur, so.”

“Can’t compete with that,” Louis mutters as they get out of the car.

Harry heads straight for the dinosaur with his camera and then puts up a minimal fight when Louis steals the camera from him and makes him stand beneath the dinosaur for a photo.  Harry’s smile fills his face, his mouth open and eyes wide as he holds up a peace sign.

“You look like an enthusiastic child,” Louis comments when he turns the camera toward Harry so he can see the screen.

“You can act unbothered by the dinosaurs,” Harry says primly. “I know you’re impressed.”

Louis smiles, “Yeah, and now we get to go look at more rocks. Wonders never cease with you, huh?”

Of all things to happen next, Louis doesn’t expect for Harry to kiss him, quick and far too short before he pulls back and heads toward the rock shop. Louis blinks quickly and then hurries after him, mind running in circles on its own.

The rainbow rocks are another thing that sounds cooler than they really are as Louis follows Harry along the tables lined with bins full of large, colorful rocks. They’re pretty but they’re rocks – just like all the ones they saw earlier in the day. Louis still thinks the lake wins out.

It is slightly entertaining to watch Harry pick up all of the rocks and investigate them like he’s an archaeologist. Louis steals the camera back to get some pictures of Harry and his rocks even though he doesn’t end up buying any.

“Is this a real thing people come for?” Louis asks once Harry is satisfied and they walk toward the main street of the town. As with most towns they’ve stopped in, there’s only one main street to visit, the rest of the side streets too small and sporadic to navigate as an outsider.

“I guess,” Harry says, pressing his lips together. “I thought it would be more impressive, honestly.”

“A rock is a rock.”

“In every shade of the rainbow, unfortunately.” Harry turns off his camera and lets it settle against his chest. “Should we get food?”

“Considering we skipped lunch?” Louis raises his eyebrows, “Definitely.”

“Is that you apologizing for taking me to the lake?”

Louis stops short as Harry laughs and then turns the opposite direction, pretending to walk away.

“I’m kidding,” Harry calls as he runs after him, catching Louis by the waist and pulling him back in the right direction. “It’s a joke.”

“Better be,” Louis says haughtily, taking Harry’s hand from his waist but not letting go. “I quite enjoyed the lake.”

Harry’s thumb wiggles on the back of Louis’s hand and then goes still. “So did I,” he says quietly.

Louis kisses him then, soft and sweet before letting Harry’s hand drop from his as they start walking. They may not be talking about it but he’s going to take advantage anyway.

*

Romo’s is a bright pink Mexican restaurant with neon signs and rainbow lettering across the front that easily stands out against the rest of the street.

“Rainbow rocks were questionable, do we think rainbow Mexican food will be better?” Louis asks seriously as they come to a stop.

Harry starts to smile and then stops himself with a nod. “We’ll stage a full investigation and find out.” Louis holds out his hand for a handshake and huffs through his laughter at Harry’s serious handshake in response.

“Have we had Mexican food yet?” Louis asks as they seat themselves in a back booth. The walls are painted dark orange and adorned with rainbow sombreros and colorful figurines, lending to an impressive atmosphere considering they’re in a small town on the edge of Arizona.

“Didn’t we have tacos?” Harry squints his eyes as he slides into the booth across from Louis. “I feel like I remember having a taco in my mouth.”

Louis lifts his eyebrows, “You only remember it after it was in your mouth, nothing else?”

“It’s not weird,” he says pointing at Louis. “Don’t make it weird.”

Louis holds up his hands and shakes his head. “You’re the one who can’t remember what you put in your mouth only that it got there,” he says.

Harry starts to say something else but the waiter appears, disappointingly dressed in a black polo shirt and jeans. For a second Louis thought everything they encountered would involve a rainbow.

“I think we know what we want,” Harry says with a happy smile before Louis can even glance at the menu.  His, “Wait, what?” gets taken over by Harry. “We’ll do a pitcher of the strawberry margarita, the guacamole sampler and then your three favorite entrées.”

“Three?” Louis echoes as the waiter makes a note on his paper pad and then walks away. Louis is pretty sure Harry winks at him.

“We’re doing a full investigation, Louis,” Harry says. “We need to get a diverse sampling for our report.”

Louis opens and closes his mouth and then shrugs. “Alright. Do you always drink on the job?”

“No,” Harry says with a smile, “But I just like the idea of a pink margarita.”

“Of course you do.” Of all the things Louis knows about Harry, a pink margarita seems like a good marker of his personality – soft and pretty with a sweet taste and a sour bite.

“What’s your favorite drink?” Harry puts his elbows on the table and cradles his chin in his palms.

Louis tilts his head, “I think beer, honestly.”

Harry scrunches his nose, “Beer?”

“Yeah,” Louis says, nodding. “Just a beer.” He laughs at Harry’s bored expression. “Why, what do you like?”

“Tequila shots,” he says right away like he’s been waiting for the question. “I love tequila shots.”

“I thought you didn’t go out very much?” In the beginning Louis just assumed Harry didn’t know how to have fun but now that he knows he does, he’s curious about Harry’s quiet lifestyle.

“I like going out with people I know,” Harry says fairly. “I don’t like to be in situations where I end up alone.”

Louis narrows his eyes, “Today you said you like to be alone. Like seven hours ago.”

Harry smiles, “Can’t I like both?”

 _Not when I’m trying to understand you,_ Louis thinks. “Sure you can,” he says out loud.

“What drink do you buy when you’re trying to flirt?”

Louis laughs, “Do you have a list of questions memorized or something?”

“I’m making conversation,” Harry says with a wide smile. “Is that a crime?”

Louis rubs his forehead, thinking. “I guess I usually get something simple like a vodka soda. Something everyone likes.”

“I wouldn’t like that.”

Louis shrugs, “Not trying to flirt with you, am I?”

Harry smirks, “Yeah, alright. Vodka soda is boring, by the way.”

“I once bought a guy Sex on the Beach,” Louis says. “On a Spring Break trip in Hawaii. Is that exciting enough? A drink and a proposition all in one.”

Harry lifts his shoulder, “I guess.” He looks down at the table and then meets Louis’s eye again. “Do you buy a lot of guys that drink?”

“Sex on the Beach?”

“Yeah.” Harry licks his lip, “Or a drink that doubles as a proposition, I mean.”

Louis’s eyebrows pull together, confusion written up and down his face. He feels like they aren’t talking about drinks anymore. “Are you asking if I proposition a lot of guys?”

Harry’s cheeks flush and he shakes his head quickly. “No, no that’s your business.”

“I don’t,” Louis says, cutting Harry off before he starts word vomiting. He knows Harry isn’t trying to be invasive; it’s his awkward way of asking if Louis sleeps around. Louis knows him well enough by now to see through his backhanded, upside down questions. Or sometimes he can, at least.

Harry nods and scratches at his eyebrow. “I’m sorry if that was out of line.”

“You’re fine,” Louis says, meaning it. There’s a pause and then he smiles. “Do you proposition many people with drinks?”

Harry shakes his head this time. “No, you’d have to have a social life to do that.”

“Not necessarily,” Louis starts and then cuts off with a laugh when Harry scowls. “I have another question,” he says. “What drink do you buy when you’re flirting?”

Harry grins slowly as the waiter turns the corner toward them. His words are syrupy slow and make Louis blush. “Strawberry margarita,” he says.

*

Strawberry margaritas eventually turn to standard margaritas and three entrees are far too much for either of them to finish though they make a valiant effort. Louis hardly pays attention to how many margaritas they finish after the first pitcher, more concerned with the happy feeling settling over him like a haze.

It’s a good change of pace considering the roller coaster of emotions Louis has been through since the first moment he opened his eyes this morning. Not to mention how red Harry’s lips get when he drinks. Fuck, Louis deserves to lose track of how many margaritas he’s had.

They talk about things that don’t matter - how Harry wants to learn to master a signature dish and Louis just wants to start cooking at home more instead of picking up food on his way back from class.

“It’s just easier to pick up Thai food on the way home than actually make something,” Louis says, licking the salt from one of the margaritas, he’s not positive what one.

“That’s true,” Harry says with tilt of his head. “Not very healthy, though. Or cost efficient.”

“Cost efficient,” Louis snorts and then snaps his fingers. “You need to learn to make Thai food. That will be your signature dish. Then I could come eat it.”

“Hey.” Harry pushes his lips out. “Who said I would invite you?”

“Honestly?” Louis takes a long sip of his margarita. It tastes like more tequila than the watermelon Harry ordered them on their most recent trip to the back bar. “Why wouldn’t you invite me? I’m a wonderful dinner guest.”

Harry smiles, “Yeah, I’d invite you.”

Louis feels warmth curling under his lungs and swears it’s the tequila.

They talk about the places they want to travel and Harry tells Louis about his obsession with “How It’s Made” documentaries and makes Louis promise to watch one. He goes so far as to make Louis pinky promise which, he says, is as binding as a legal agreement. Discussion goes up the road of embarrassing childhood stories and then back toward favorite foods and weirdest foods they’ve ever tried.

By the time the restaurant is empty their leftover food has long gone cold and the bill has sat unpaid on the edge of their table for far past an acceptable amount of time. Most of the lights have been dimmed in the restaurant and the floors are being mopped. Louis has been so lost in Harry for the last couple of hours, maybe even more than that, and it feels like the twilight zone as he looks around. He walks his credit card up to the waiter with an apologetic smile and then he can’t stop giggling when he comes back to the table to find Harry haphazardly cleaning and stacking dishes.

“Come on,” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s arm and pulling him from the booth.

“Hang on,” Harry says tugging his arm back. He downs the rest of his margarita through the straw and smacks his lips. “Tasty.”

He goes back to picking up the crumbs on the table and setting them back on the nearest plate and Louis rolls his eyes but leaves him be. He finds his feet sway him more than usual as he meets the waiter in the middle of the restaurant to sign his receipt and get his card back. He leaves an exorbitant tip but considering he doesn’t know neither what time it is nor what time Romo’s actually closed tonight, he thinks it’s probably acceptable.

“We’re so sorry,” Harry calls as he gets out of the booth. Louis tries to shush him but it’s no use really as Harry tries to navigate his spaghetti limbs through the tables and over to Louis. “We just really enjoyed the margaritas.”

“They were good,” Louis says with a smile and then he gets the air knocked out of him as Harry latches his arms around his waist and puts his chin over his shoulder.

“Thank you for having us, you’ve been lovely,” Harry says though Louis barely hears him, fully focused on the press of Harry’s body against his.

“Stop it,” Louis says, shaking his shoulders to get Harry off of him. It’s not that he wants to but they really do need to exit the building. Their waiter doesn’t seem very impressed by their antics.

“Honestly, best food we’ve had in Arizona,” Harry says. He sounds so heartfelt Louis bursts out laughing - only Harry can make it sound like he’s trying to confess his love to the stranger in front of them.

“Come on,” Louis says, pulling his arm gently. “We gotta go.”

“I’m having a conversation,” Harry says with a gesture toward the impassive waiter. If Louis could stop laughing, he imagines that would be helpful.

“Baby, come on,” he says over his laughter and that finally gets Harry to move, though slowly, toward the door. He starts blowing kisses at the waiter and Louis nearly trips over a table he swears moved into his path but they get their eventually.

It’s dark and empty outside, the nightlife in Holbrook not exactly lively. The streetlights leave pools of light in the walkway like puddles. Louis picks a random direction to start walking in, knowing they need to find a hotel because neither one of them is near sober enough to get out of town tonight.

“I like that,” Harry calls after him.

“Like what?” Louis asks, spinning around to face Harry and walking a couple of steps backward.

“When you call me baby,” he says with a wide grin, the tequila making him braver than Louis has seen him.

“Yeah?” Louis stops dead and reaches for Harry, pulling him in close. Their breath mixes together and smells like berries and liquor and then they’re kissing, harder than is acceptable on a street corner, hands gripping like they’re about to slip away. _Baby, baby, baby_ runs in a cycle in Louis’s brain but stops hard as he pulls back. _Not my baby._

“We shouldn’t,” he says, pulling back. He takes a step away and his hand slides down Harry’s arm tangling their fingers briefly and then separating.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Harry asks, skipping to close the distance between them and walking along Louis’s side.

Louis’s mind is flooded with tequila and no straight answers. They’re not supposed to talk about it, that’s the agreement. “I don’t know, baby.”

“You did it again,” Harry points out, grinning.

“Not on purpose.” There’s just something about Harry that makes sweet things slip from his lips. Especially where margaritas are involved.

“Whatever you say,” Harry sings, laughing over his words. “Oh my god.”

Louis stops at Harry’s declaration, eyes darting around for a threat of some sort that has made Harry gasp.

“Is this a dream?”

He finally points to what it is he’s seen - the Wigwam Motel in neon lights and surrounded by thirty giant free standing rooms shaped like teepees equipped with porch lights and doors. It looks like a dollhouse come to life.

“We’re staying here,” Harry says excitedly and then he’s darting across the road, barely looking for cars, which gives Louis the heart attack he doesn’t need at twenty-three.

Harry is already in the main office when Louis crosses the street safely, elbows perched on the counter and chatting with the woman behind the desk. Louis hears him complimenting her long black braids and telling her about how he wants to grow his hair out too.

“Anyway,” he says with a glance over his shoulder. “Do you have any vacancies?”

“For you boys?” She says with a smile. “I hope so. You seem quite fun.”

“We are,” Harry says with a smile and Louis tries to match it.

“One bed or two?” She asks as she clicks around on the computer.

Louis freezes as Harry looks over his shoulder at him. They hold each other’s eyes silently and while Louis knows they shouldn’t sleep together again, not when they’re so messy about it in the daylight, his heart screams _one, one, one._

“Two, please,” Harry says, turning back. It sends Louis’s tequila high spiraling down quickly.

Despite Harry’s initial excitement about the motel layout, they’re quiet on the walk to their unit, no longer joking and laughing the way they were on the other side of the street. The teepee room is the coolest they’ve stayed in and they admire it from the outside before exploring inside.

Considering they didn’t get their bags before they got drunk, they wash their faces with scratchy wash cloths at the sink and gulp water from the faucet to hopefully mend their hangovers before they can really begin. They should shower after being in the unnamed lake earlier but Louis’s limbs are too heavy to do so and Harry is barely standing upright, his eyes closing longer and longer as they dry off their faces.

Louis leads Harry by the hips to his bed and then pulls the covers down as Harry takes off his clothes and kicks off his shoes. Louis takes off his own clothes quietly, turning out the light and getting in his bed across from Harry.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says into the darkness, voice low.

“For what?” Louis asks, throat dry. He’s tired and drunk and a bit heartbroken for a boy who was never supposed to have any part of his heart in the first place.

“I don’t know,” Harry says and he sounds sad about it.

“Don’t be sorry,” Louis says, his eyes closing heavily. “Everything is fine.”

Harry doesn’t say anything else and as Louis falls into a fitful sleep, he hopes his last words are the truth.

  
*


	6. Day 11 & 12

 

[DAY ELEVEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165957839469/day-eleven-sunset-crater-flagstaff-arizona-x)

Holbrook, Arizona

 

Louis wakes up slowly in another hotel room that takes him a moment to place, another city he’s slow to recognize. It’s like being a rock star on tour except all of the hotel rooms and mishmash of cities are actually quite damaging to his bank account. Not that he’s actually checked. He just knows.

He points his toes to stretch his calves and rolls onto his side to face Harry. No one is as surprised as him to find Harry already looking at him, bleary green eyes slowly blinking at him from across the three feet divide. The covers are pulled up around Harry’s ears and it makes him look more like an angel on a cloud than a guy with a hangover.

Louis is really thankful his thoughts are not broadcast out loud.

“Good morning,” Harry says, slow and measured as always.

“Morning, H.” Louis’s voice is scratchy from sleep as he rubs at his tired eyes.

“We had a lot of tequila last night.”

Louis drops his hands and laughs, scooting deeper into his own cloud of covers. “A lot of tequila. A lot of tacos.”

“A lot of guacamole,” Harry adds with a smile.

“Solid night,” Louis says.

“Are we staying in a hotel shaped like a teepee or did I make that up?”

Louis laughs again, his eyes closing with it. “No, that’s real.” He licks his lips and wonders if Harry remembers the rest of their night, the details Louis can’t stop replaying. The way Harry said he likes when Louis calls him _baby_ , the way Harry hugged him like a fucking koala when they were leaving Romo’s, the look they shared when he asked for two beds.

“Thank god,” Harry says. “I need to get a picture before we go.” He scrunches his lips, “Did I lose my camera?”

Louis’s eyes go wide. He definitely doesn’t remember the last time he saw Harry’s camera – not after the life size dinosaurs at the not-so-stellar rock shop. “We must have left it at the restaurant. We’ll go there first thing this morning.”

Harry nods, “I’ve never left it anywhere before.”

Louis swallows, “Yeah, well, we were pretty drunk.”

“I’m not hungover,” Harry says after a pause. “Why am I not hungover?”

Louis has a slight headache but nothing that serious though his mouth is slightly dry. “Must have been magic tequila.”

Harry grins and then sits up quickly. His bare skin is always a welcome sight in Louis’s book even as Harry covers his face and groans. “Head rush,” he mumbles.

When he stretches his arms over his head, Louis stares openly at the curve of his back and the way his stomach balloons as he yawns. He looks away before Harry can catch him.

“I have to shower,” Harry announces as he flings off the bed covers. “I feel disgusting.”

Louis watches him stand, the stretch of his legs and the pale skin of his thighs as he adjusts where his boxers must have ridden up overnight. This time Harry catches him staring. Louis clears his throat and darts his eyes back to meet Harry’s. “Disgusting, yeah.”

Harry looks at him oddly for a moment like he’s thinking before he starts walking toward the bathroom. “Feel free to join me,” he tosses over his shoulder like it’s not supposed to knock the breath out of Louis.

It definitely does.

He opens his mouth and then closes it, the moment for saying something already passed as Harry closes the bathroom door and then turns on the shower. Louis rolls to his back and stares at the high peak of the ceiling, all of the wasted space just so the building can be shaped like a teepee.

As if architecture could distract him right now.  He rolls his eyes.

Harry is naked next to him. Not right next to him but probably eight feet away and through a paper thin wall. Soon naked Harry is going to be wet and in the shower while Louis is laying in the filth from the lake and thinking about that same Harry.

 _Feel free to join me._ Harry’s voice echoes in his head as he lays there, pointing and flexing his feet like he’s capable of turning down a request from Harry. He considers last night an impressive show of strength to stop kissing Harry considering kissing Harry is the only past time he’s thought about in the last few days.

He swallows and adjusts the covers again, suddenly scratchy against his skin. Harry said they don’t have to talk about what they do, what they’ve done. Harry offered a free pass and Louis is the one dragging his feet to take it. He circles his thumbs together a moment more, telling himself he’s content to wait to use the shower on his own, content to give up a morning spent kissing Harry. It doesn’t really work.

He’s out of bed and speed-walking around Harry’s bed before flinging open the bathroom door without preamble.

The bathroom is already steamy from the shower and sweet smelling from Harry’s vanilla body wash. It’s all amplified as Harry pulls open the creamy white shower curtain and pokes his head out, hair still dry. He looks confused for a moment until Louis hooks his thumbs in his boxers and then Harry smiles like a secret as he pulls the curtain open wider.

It’s wet and fast from there, their bodies pressed together in the tight shower, wet skin slipping as the warm water cascades over them. Harry’s lips are plush against Louis’s mouth, his tongue becoming an expert in the art of Louis as he holds Louis low around his hips.

They don’t talk as they grind and gasp against each other, fingernails digging in, blood rushing to the surface. Harry is loud and Louis loves it, the cut off moans and lower groans when Louis gets his hand on his cock, pulling him to full hardness with a firm grip. Harry grapples for Louis with his own hand, his face pressed against Louis’s neck, biting and then licking the skin.

Harry gasps against Louis’s mouth when Louis thumbs over his tip and then tightens his hand, a circuit that seems to be exactly what Harry needs.

“Oh my god,” he chants on repeat, his neck bared and head dropped back. Louis bites the pale column of his muscle because he can and then sucks on the edge of his jaw as he works Harry up over the curve of his orgasm. He can’t see when Harry comes, the water and close proximity blurring his vision but he feels the muscles of Harry’s body tighten, the choked off gasp and twitch of his cock as warm wetness splatters up Louis’s stomach. Louis works him through the aftershocks even as Harry finds his mouth to kiss him again, using his thigh to create friction against Louis’s crotch.

It doesn’t take long at all for Harry to get him off after that, not when he adds the tight grip of his hand and bites on Louis’s earlobe, whispers, “Come for me, Lou,” right up against his ear. Louis loses it in a silent gasp and a full body tremble as Harry holds him through it.

He swears his ears ring as he floats back down, grounded to Harry’s lips and the rushing water, his mouth bruised from kissing, his stomach warm from his orgasm. They trade lazy kisses as they wash their hair and take turns under the spray, casually discussing whether vanilla shower gel is overrated. Louis could get used to waking up like this. As soon as the thought comes he swats it down, kissing Harry a bit harder to get his mind to focus on something else not nearly as dangerous.

*

“Look, the lovers are back.”

Louis and Harry both look over at the same time as they walk into Romo’s. Their waiter from last night seems in a happier mood as he smirks at the two of them from his perch on top of the bar.

“We’re back,” Louis says, not bothering to correct him. Harry has a bruise on his jaw from Louis’s mouth so, for the moment, maybe the waiter isn’t wrong.

Louis stays near the door as Harry goes to ask about his camera, his day old clothes feeling uncomfortable against his clean skin. He’s looking forward to finding the car and fresh underwear, honestly. It’s not a lot to ask.

Harry comes back with the camera less than a moment later, holding it up like a trophy. He kisses the side of it and promises to never lose her again; Louis rolls his eyes.

Sober, and in the daylight, finding the car isn’t as difficult as it seemed the night before. They do make a stop at a bakery where Louis makes fun of Harry’s inability to choose a scone as the girl behind the counter swoons over him and offers both of their orders at no charge. Harry’s smile is frozen in disbelief as Louis pays for both of their pastries and coffees and pushes Harry back out the door. He still can’t process how Harry doesn’t know how charming he is.

They both change quickly outside of the Jeep before getting in with the map tuned to the next destination. Harry drives so they listen to Fleetwood Mac as they cruise down the main strip of Holbrook and out of town, warm coffee and perfect scones in their laps. It’s another town Louis probably won’t visit again but where traces of him and Harry will linger like glitter in the air.

*

“It’s a fake hike?” Louis repeats Harry’s words back to him ninety minutes further into Arizona as Harry takes an exit off the highway.

“Yeah,” Harry says like it’s not confusing.

“Explain, please.”

“Instead of hiking, you drive. It’s like thirty miles through the whole thing.”

Louis sighs, “Babe, that’s a scenic drive not a fake hike.”

 _Babe._ Louis hears it again in the quiet that lingers. He doesn’t do it on purpose, he doesn’t even think about it now but still, it slips. He presses his lips together, determined not to show his hesitation.

“Okay,” Harry says finally, staring straight ahead. “We’re not going fake hiking at Sunset Crater, we’re going on a scenic drive.”

“Thank you,” Louis says with a smirk. “I appreciate the clarification.”

This time Harry is the one who rolls his eyes.

“I have another question,” Louis says as they pass the entrance sign to the top of the trail at the Ponderosa Pine forest. There’s one car in front of them going quickly down the winding path even though the speed says twenty miles per hour.

“Of course you do,” Harry says with a sweet smile tacked on the end.

“Why are we stopping here instead of going straight to the Grand Canyon?”

Harry shrugs. “How will you appreciate the enormity of the Grand Canyon if you haven’t seen the smaller stuff first?”

Louis pulls his eyebrows together and turns toward Harry. “Does anyone not appreciate the enormity of the Grand Canyon on its own?”

Harry glances around with his nose up like he hasn’t heard Louis at all. “Anyway,” he says loudly, “Welcome to the Sunset Crater.”

The path curves mostly down for the second ninety minute leg of their trip, swirling through forests and into the red rocks of the canyon eventually. For the first part, Harry pulls off to the road every five minutes to take photos until Louis offers to drive and Harry can hang out the window like the wildlife paparazzi. Louis spends more time laughing about it than he should but he can’t help but be hopelessly endeared by Harry. Not anymore, at least.

They buy water and Skittles at the halfway mark before the drive continues. Louis goes slowly so Harry can get all the photos he needs and sometimes puts the car in reverse to make Harry laugh. Making Harry laugh has become one of his favorite things, though he tries not to think about it too much.

Another thing he tries not to think about is the blooming mark on Harry’s jaw from his mouth. He had known he was mouthing aggressively along Harry’s jawline in the shower but he didn’t realize the lasting mark he would leave. It fills him with a weird sense of possessiveness whenever he looks at Harry – to see the way this morning has been left behind even if they aren’t going to acknowledge it outright. He knows the skin will fade back to normal, sooner rather than later, but it doesn’t stop him from being secretly pleased; especially not when he catches Harry pressing on the mark when he doesn’t think Louis is watching.

*

They stop at a diner on the way to the Grand Canyon - one with the usual overhaul on signage and fading paint on the exterior. They order burgers and sit in the back, share a plate of nachos as an appetizer they really don't need. Louis dares Harry to eat three jalapenos in a row and then laughs at Harry’s offended face when it’s spicier than he anticipates. He starts to feel bad when tears are streaming down Harry’s face from the heat and pulls a wad of napkins from the dispenser on their table for him. Harry flips him off with both hands.

Louis is getting used to it now, eleven days in. Used to sharing everything with Harry - every meal, every morning and night, almost every other moment throughout the day. He doesn't know how things will change when they get to their destination, when they get back to a place where they share these same things with different people. Each moment with Harry is another step toward reaching California and the end of their adventure. The thought of an end swoops in his stomach but he ignores it for the moment; he doesn't want to think about why.  
  
There's a trivia game at their table and, of course, Harry picks it up first and convinces Louis to play. He smiles when he asks the questions and tries to keep from laughing at all of Louis's wrong answers though he's not very good at it. Louis hates to lose so he does put in the effort to try his best but he keeps slipping, his mind wandering out of the diner, out of Arizona.

He keeps going back to Chicago, when he first met Harry. If he'd told the hungover Louis in Niall’s apartment on that Saturday morning that he would be infatuated with the promptly on time guy in a shirt that said 'women are smarter' with messy hair, he would have gone back to bed and concluded it was a dream.  
  
Instead, here he is. Hanging on Harry's words, memorizing the way he smiles, hoping time will slow down so this won’t all be ripped away when they get to campus - when real life reminds them of the way it's supposed to be.

“How many muscles does your face use to kiss someone?”

Louis pulls back from his thoughts to look at Harry. “What?”

Harry waves the trivia card in his hand around a bit. “It’s on the card.”

There’s no reason for Louis’s cheeks to heat but it happens anyway as he fakes nonchalance. “Like twelve?” He throws out the first number he thinks of - as if he even knows how many muscles are in his face to begin with.

Harry smiles slowly. “Depending on the kiss, up to thirty-four.”

“Thirty-four?” Louis puts a hand to his mouth as if it will help him count the muscle he can’t see. “What kind of kiss uses thirty-four muscles in your face?”

Harry does something obscene with his tongue and Louis stomach goes a bit warm. Harry laughs and the tops of his cheeks go pink so maybe he’s felt whatever that was, too. “A French kiss, maybe,” he says. He clears his throat and looks back at the card to go to the next question.

“I think I’ll judge all future kisses by how many muscles are involved,” Louis says conversationally. “I need upwards of twenty-five for it to be a stellar kiss. Anything less in unacceptable.”

Harry glances up and licks his bottom lip. Louis should know by now that he’s about to say something just crossing the line of platonic-friendship appropriate but somehow it still catches him off guard. “Guess we’ll have to practice, then.”

He doesn’t pause for Louis’s reaction just goes to the next question about nose hairs. Louis doesn’t really listen, mind wandering again. Harry Styles is becoming a problem he didn’t realize he was going to have.

*

The next hour or so on the road is complete desert. Red rocks and faded green shrubbery, wide open skies. Louis misses the green of home, even the transplanted green of campus. He wants to drive them straight up to the Pacific Northwest in pursuit of something that shows more life than a rolling tumbleweed in the distance.

He can’t even ask Harry’s permission nor his opinion about a detour to Oregon as he dozes off and on in the passenger seat. He doesn’t seem to ever get that comfortable as he twists around but every once in awhile he snores softly and catches Louis’s attention. It takes him back to the first night when he thought he was going to strangle Harry in his sleep over all of the sounds he made. Now it all seems subdued and easy as he drives with the Arctic Monkeys playing quietly in the background. It feels like this is how it’s supposed to be. The thought scares him so badly, he intentionally swerves the Jeep to wake Harry up with a disgruntled squeak. Louis laughs and Harry flips him off as usual. It still feels like it’s right in all the best ways. Harry drifts off again and Louis lets him be for once, only occasionally looking at the way his lips press together and the way his fingers twitch even when he sleeps.

The Grand Canyon doesn’t come out of nowhere the way Louis expects. It goes slowly from small divots in the earth and tall red walls to gradual deepening and lengthening and then it’s there. The Grand Canyon in all it’s vast glory and endless echoes. Louis slows the Jeep as he pulls into one of the lookout points with a few other cars. He doesn’t know what Harry wants to do at the Grand Canyon besides look at it but he’s learned it’s best to consult Harry for the plan before going off the rails with his own. It is safe to say he learned that lesson in a bit of a roundabout fashion.

Louis turns off the car and the sudden silence seems to be what wakes Harry up, stretching his arms up and blinking around in the sunlight of the afternoon. “Is this it?”

Louis actually laughs as he opens the door on his side. “Nah, babe, this is the other giant fucking canyon in Arizona.” Harry glowers as Louis gets out of the car. He did the ‘babe’ thing again and he’s worried it’s becoming a habit he can’t break.

They walk up to the edge of the fence overlooking into the deep canyon and try to take it all in. Louis feels like it's an attempt rather than a success as his eyes melt over the deepest valleys and the river below and then catch on the gorgeous coloring up and down the rocks. The Grand Canyon in his mind and the Grand Canyon in front of him seem like they exist as two separate entities. The magic of being told something is amazing and deciding that for yourself.  
  
"It makes me feel like I can't catch my breath," Harry says quietly. Louis almost makes fun of him before he realizes he agrees with him.  
  
"You know what makes me appreciate it even more?" Louis shifts his hips and glances at Harry. "That shitty little crater we saw a couple of hours ago."  
  
"Sunset Crater wasn't shitty," Harry says, actually sounding offended for the fucking crater.  
  
Louis shrugs, "It's no Grand Canyon, that's for sure." Harry looks away as he smirks.  
  
"What's the plan, H?" Louis asks after a few moments of quiet observation. Harry doesn't even have his camera out yet so Louis knows there's more to the Grand Canyon adventure.  
  
"I was planning to hike," Harry starts - he holds up his hand when Louis groans. "I was planning to hike when I was alone. But a couple mornings ago I was doing some more research about things to do while you were in the shower."  
  
"Oh no," Louis says, voice flat. "What did you find?"  
  
Harry presses his lips together and looks away. Louis waits for him and it doesn't take long before Harry meets his eyes again. "There's a restaurant where there aren't any tables or anything and you basically get seated on a picnic blanket overlooking the canyon. They serve you out there too. It seemed cool and," he licks his bottom lip, "I thought it would be nice to go at sunset."  
  
Louis doesn't do a great job at keeping his surprise minimal, his eyebrows lifting and lips parting without his permission. It sounds romantic as all hell, really. The fact Harry looked it up and wants to go with him is more shocking than the premise of the restaurant at all. Harry definitely doesn't read that on Louis's face because his smile drops off his mouth.  
  
"Forget it," Harry says dismissively, eyes tracing back over the canyon. "It's stupid."  
  
"It's not," Louis says, swallowing. "I think that sounds awesome, actually."  
  
Harry doesn't look over but Louis studies the line of his jaw and the way he seems to be clenching his back molars together.

It's just - Louis can't even phrase it correctly in his own head. Harry came up with something that is romantic, something he put thought in to, and then he was brave enough to ask Louis to come with him. Even when he knew Louis was sure to have a sarcastic comment and a joke.

Louis would never lose his sense of humor but Harry makes him want to soften the edges, he makes him want to say things he actually means for once in his life and that is scarier than it should be.  
  
"Hey," Louis says, quietly and just for them. "Hey." He repeats himself and reaches for Harry's hand, brushing their fingers together lightly. "I mean that I would be happy to go there," he says. Harry looks over slowly and Louis almost swallows the words before he stops himself. "Go there with you."  
  
They hold each other's eyes in lingering silence, the canyon and tourists melting away so only they exist, here in this moment. Louis wants to kiss Harry for no reason at all and right when he starts to lean, Harry pulls away and clears his throat.  
  
Noise floods in rapidly, the echo of the canyon and tourists a sudden cacophony of sound as Louis takes a step back from Harry as well.  "What do we do until dinner?" Louis asks, checking his phone.

There are only a couple hours until the sun will probably start to set and he's sure Harry would like to be on time. It's not enough time to do much but, again, Louis doubts Harry wants to sit around twiddling his thumbs while they wait.  
  
"I don't know," Harry says, scrunching his lips.  
  
"Let’s go on a little hike," Louis says. This time the surprise is on Harry's face instead of his. "I was listening when you said that was your original plan," he says. "Shocking, I know."  
  
Harry smiles and it's small but Louis doesn't even care because his eyes are shining and his dimple curves in. That dimple might kill Louis before the road trip is even over. "That sounds good," Harry says finally, smiling over his words. It has Louis feeling like he's offered up something a lot bigger than a hike.  
*  
  
They don't go on a very long hike at all just up through one of the lower valleys to a different look out point. Louis watches wearily as Harry climbs on rocks to get different angles for his photos and pulls him backward by the hem of shirt when it seems like he's a bit too close to the edge.  
  
"Sorry," he mutters when Harry jolts at Louis's tug. "You're freaking me out." Harry's half smile makes Louis's heart beat a bit harder and maybe that freaks him out too.  
  
The late afternoon sun beats on them as they climb up the small hills and they're both sweaty and flushed when they stand at the top of the trail and admire the view. It feels endless where they are, not even all the way up on the edge. The water swirls through the middle like a blue serpent, silent and unmoving though Louis knows that's not true if they were to get closer.  
  
"I'm sweating," Harry announces needlessly, pulling his shirt up off his stomach and wiping off his face. He's got a v-line that haunts Louis's day dreams but Louis only spares a quick glance before looking away.  
  
"No shit," he says as he lifts the collar of his shirt and wipes his own face on the inside. "I feel like we're not going to be allowed in the restaurant you chose. We probably smell like old cheese."  
  
Harry wrinkles his nose and it makes Louis laugh. "I think it's fine and I doubt we smell like cheese."  
  
"Speak for yourself," Louis says lowly.  
  
"We could get a hotel and shower," Harry suggests.  
  
"That sounds like an expensive shower, babe."  
  
Even with the babe, Harry rolls his eyes. "I mean it'll be the same hotel we stay in tonight. We can just check in early."  
  
"Right," Louis says, "I knew that." Harry doesn't always have the best ideas according to Louis but this may be one. "Know of any hotels looking for two boys who smell like cheese?"  
  
Harry doesn't even acknowledge him as he heads back down the path to where they've parked the car.

*

[Bright Angel Lodg](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/165958505394/day-eleven-grand-canyon-bright-angel-lodge)e is just up the road from where they finish their hike and it looks fitting for the Grand Canyon with it's stacked log exterior and heavily forested themed interior design. There's a stuffed bear as tall as the ceiling that actually makes Harry trip over his feet when he sees it. Louis laughs but he's just as startled. He hopes the stuffed animals are only regulated to the lobby and not the individual rooms.  
  
Harry walks up to the front desk with a smile, Louis two steps behind. "We'd like a room, please," he says once he's asked about the concierge's day and her week and complimented her earrings. Honestly, how he isn't famous for being charming beyond all measure is beyond Louis.  
  
"Sure," she says sweetly, her long nails clicking on the keyboard. "We have a few options. A double or a King. Which do you prefer?" She smiles back and forth between them though the edges of her mouth turn down as the silence lapses on.  
  
Harry isn't speaking, isn't even looking at Louis. He's tapping his credit card on the edge of the counter and staring at it like it's going to answer for them. Louis tries to get Harry to look at him telepathically but it doesn't work. So he coughs into his fist and bites the bullet with as charming of a smile as he can muster, "We'll take the King room, thanks so much."  
  
Harry smiles as he hands over the credit card and Louis's lungs are fighting for breath like he's just run a marathon.  
  
The woman explains how to get to their room and this time Harry is the one listening and nodding along while Louis stares at his shoes. There are few things he wants more than to share a bed with Harry, to take the questions off the table for once, but he's still hesitant about it. Worried he's overstepped a boundary they aren't discussing.  
  
They're both quiet as they walk to the elevator and Louis's gut twists. He doesn't want to ruin the night, not when Harry has it all planned out. As romantic as it all sounds. That's the thing - Harry planned a romantic evening for the two of them. Deciding to get a room with one bed doesn't seem so far off the mark; Harry still has a bruise on his jaw from Louis's mouth for god’s sake.  
  
Still.  
  
Louis can't help the uneasiness in his stomach as they step into the elevator, the doors slipping closed and sealing them in silence. Louis starts babbling as soon as the car starts moving up.  
  
"I'm sorry for assuming on the room," he says. "I understand if you don't want to share a bed and I'm sure there will be a couch that I can sleep on -"  
  
"Louis," Harry cuts him off firmly. "Shut up. I want to share a bed with you."  
  
Louis swallows and looks up from where his fingers are twisting in his backpack strap. "Yeah?"  
  
Harry nods and his cheeks go the most lovely shade of pink. "It's all I've been thinking about since I turned down the opportunity last night."  
  
Louis opens and closes his mouth but no words come out. Harry confuses the shit out of him on a regular basis - like not kissing him at the Grand Canyon - and then he comes out with shit like this, so clear and straightforward it makes butterflies take flight in Louis's stomach. He's not a guy who does butterflies.  
  
It's not made any better by the fact Harry takes the next moment to kiss Louis, soft lips and warm breath gone before anything can truly start as the elevator doors slip open on their floor. Louis swallows drily and Harry winks at him. It feels like a promise.  


*

  
The forestry theme doesn't end in the lobby the way Louis had hoped. In fact, there is a large fish hanging over their king size bed and the curtains on the windows are all covered in different kinds of leaves.  
  
"It's in the bathroom too." Harry's announcement is muffled through the walls but Louis hears him all the same. He's too busy staring at the giant fucking fish to do anything about it.  
  
"The toothbrush holders are fish with their mouths open," Harry says, reappearing in the room with wide eyes. "They deep throat your toothbrush essentially."  
  
Louis swivels over to face him and laughs loudly, covering his mouth with his hand. "This is fucking ridiculous," he says over his smile. So much for a night of romance.  
  
"That fish is coming down before I get near the bed," Harry says, pointing. "I will not have that thing watching me."  
  
"It's like a guardian angel but a fish," Louis says, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"Absolutely not," Harry says before grabbing his bag and disappearing into the bathroom to shower.

 

*

  
Louis takes his time getting ready once he showers. He finds a pair of jeans in the bottom of his bag and tugs them out flat on the bed to get rid of the wrinkles. Then, he upturns the rest of his bag completely looking for a shirt that isn't a tank top. Something about the night feels like he should take the time to put an outfit together instead of throwing something on and diving headfirst into the car on the way to their next destination. It feels like a night to go slow, to savor. There may not be a future where he gets Harry on a romantic date night in the middle of a canyon.

Finally, he settles on a white tee with a jean shirt he leaves unbuttoned over top of it and rubs his hands through his hair to get it to start drying a bit. He doesn't pay much attention as Harry flits in between the bathroom and the room, though he has to smile when he hears the hair dryer turn on briefly. Harry must sense something different about tonight too.

Louis is texting his sisters when Harry emerges from the bathroom in a soft cloud of cologne and he  snaps to attention.  
  
His back is to Louis as he turns out the light so Louis takes his time looking at his black jeans, all the ways they hug his legs down to his black boots with golden buckles on the toes as he turns around. Louis drags his eyes up from the shoes, pausing over Harry's thighs again because he’s only human. Harry’s shirt is a light blue button up with the short sleeves rolled once and only buttoned halfway up his chest. He's smirking by the time Louis's gaze makes it to his eyes but Louis isn't embarrassed. If anything, he's struck by the way Harry's eyes stand out with the blue of the shirt, like they were made to be paired together. He forgets to chastise himself for being a sap.  
  
"Ready?" Harry asks, his smirk shifting to more of a smile.  
  
Louis's mouth is too dry to say much but he nods and grabs the room key from the side table, flipping off the light to their room as they leave. He swears the fish over the bed watches them go.

*

The sun has barely started to sink by the time they make it to the restaurant. There’s a darker shadow over the valley of the canyon and the heat has started to dissipate into a more comfortable haze. Based on Harry’s earlier description, Louis had the idea the place would be more romantic than the diners they’ve frequented on the road but as the host leads them to their picnic blanket, he wasn’t sure this is what he expected.

There are different paths leading to different areas of the dining area, each path lit with lanterns on curved poles that will illuminate the way once the sun goes down. The picnic blankets are large and thick, an entire garden of flowers planted on one side of every plot. Louis thinks this is the kind of place people propose marriage to each other but he doesn’t say that out loud.

They both laugh quietly as they sit down on their assigned picnic blanket, the host pointing them to the bottle of wine in the basket at the edge of the blanket before depositing two menus and quietly leaving.

“This is the ideal picnic,” Harry says, stretching his legs in front of him and leaning back on his hands to face the canyon. “None of the work but all of the good stuff.”

Louis smiles and mirrors Harry’s position. The way the blankets are all spaced, it’s easy to forget they’re not alone on the edge of the canyon overlooking something more special than can be articulated as colors and shadows begin to dance over the rocks, casting rainbows along the water below.

They sit in silence for a moment, taking it in, before Louis crawls over to the basket for the bottle of wine and two stemless glasses. There isn’t a hard surface to set the glasses on so he settles for Harry’s hands as he fills each glass just over halfway and then has to knee-walk back to the picnic basket to put the bottle back.

“That was smooth,” Harry comments as Louis nearly falls on his face in the process.

“Really?” Louis asks, smiling. “Are you enchanted by my charms?” He’s kidding but Harry’s flicker of raised eyebrows and then smile sends the butterflies in his stomach in a flurry. He’s not a huge fan of the butterflies.

Harry hands over Louis’s glass without saying anything more and they set about looking over the menu of small bites, a welcome change from every grease-laden meal they’ve eaten so far. They end up ordering a cheese plate with a charcuterie tray that claims it can serve four along with a smaller tray of veggies and handmade crackers Harry gets particularly excited about.

They watch the sunset as they wait for their food, the slow ease of it turning the sky pink and orange before it dips beyond the horizon line. As far as sunsets go, Louis thinks this one is more beautiful than the rest but that may be because of Harry’s tiny awes of wonder and the way he points at certain colors in the sky he wants Louis to notice.

It’s not easy to ignore how comfortable Louis feels with Harry like this - even in a setting screaming out for committed couples and not friends who kiss and touch each other in the dark. Talking with Harry is so simple, teasing Harry is a quiet joy and listening to Harry is one of Louis’s new favorite things. He adores the way he talks, the syrup in his voice that, a week ago, made him want to yell, “Spit it out,” and now makes him smile as Harry takes his sweet ass time through a story about his first kiss at sunset when he was thirteen.

“Wait, she bit you?” Louis focuses in on what Harry is actually saying rather than the sweet tone of his voice.

Harry smiles slowly and shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah. She was like, two years older and didn’t realize it was my first kiss.”

Louis shakes his head as Harry takes a sip of wine. “What am I missing? Why was it okay for her to bite you? That sounds fucking rude.”

Harry laughs and covers his mouth as he swallows his wine. “It wasn’t like a bite on my nose or something. She bit my lip like, to be sexy.”

“Oh,” Louis says loudly, finally getting it. “I thought she was like cannibalizing your face.”

Harry stares at him with dead eyes. “What goes on in your mind?”

“You don’t want to know,” Louis says just as seriously. Harry ruins the moment with his big smile but Louis doesn’t mind.

Their food comes on a sturdy wooden tray they set between them and Harry refills their wine as they eat with their fingers and chat quietly. With the sun gone there’s more of a chill to the air but it’s comfortable in the grey light of the fading sky and the lantern light dotted around them.

It doesn’t seem like their conversation follows any straight path as they talk about their favorite bars near campus and loop around to their favorite foods growing up - how Harry’s mom was shocked by his love of broccoli and his sister hated him for suggesting they have it at every meal.

“Got sick of it after a while,” Harry says over his smile. “Haven’t eaten it in years now.”

Louis picks up a piece of broccoli from their vegetable plate and waves it around lazily. “Are you tempted?”

Harry scrunches his nose and leans back slightly. “Not in the least.” Louis matches Harry’s lean with one of his own, putting the vegetable right up in Harry’s face and brushing his lips with it.

“Eat it,” Louis says as Harry shakes his head, his eyes crossing as he tries to keep an eye on Louis’s hand. “Put it in your mouth.” Louis laughs over his words as he tries to keep a serious face and taps Harry’s mouth with it

He gasps when Harry reaches for the floret and chucks it out into the canyon with the force of someone who has definitely thrown a vegetable across a room before.  “Whoops,” he says quietly, lips pressing together in surprise as he looks at Louis. They’re closer than they’ve been all night, barely a breath between them from Louis trying to force the broccoli down Harry’s throat.

Louis laughs lightly but doesn’t quite pull away. His eyes brush up and down Harry’s face and then he kisses him softly, one hand sliding under his chin to guide his lips open once in a quiet sigh before they separate and Louis goes back to his side of the blanket. He knows he’s walking himself down a dangerous path, kissing Harry like this. He can feel his feet start to slip into something close to a freefall but he can’t stop.

They linger once their food is gone, only traces of the worst tasting meats and cheese leftover. They put in good work on the vegetables but there’s only one piece of broccoli missing, buried deep in the Grand Canyon and, probably, never to be found.

As it gets darker, Louis starts to get braver, building up the courage to ask questions lingering in the back of his throat. He knows so much about Harry but he’s always craving more - more detail, more insight into everything that’s made him the way he is. Part of it is studying in a field built to poke around and ask questions, part of it is the annoying butterflies in his belly that keep nudging the bottoms of his lungs.

“I have a question,” Louis starts. He swallows and turns toward Harry, one leg straight and the other bent as he takes a sip from his wine glass. They’re on their second bottle and, though Louis is no expert, the Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley seems to only be getting better throughout the night.

“You may approach the bench,” Harry drawls seriously.

“That’s not how that works but, thanks.”

“I need to brush up on my judge-lingo?” Harry’s eyebrow curves up as he smiles. “Noted.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Louis says shaking his head. “I don’t have a question anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” Harry says firmly. “Ask it.”

Louis licks his lip and feels like a fool for wondering but asks anyway. “After Matt, was there -” he swallows, “Has there been anyone else?”

Harry tilts his head just slightly. “Anyone else what?”

Louis lifts his chin a bit higher, too late to back down now. “Have you dated anyone?”

“Oh.” Surprise lights Harry’s voice but he doesn’t turn away. “I have.”

There’s not much to go off from a two-word answer and though Louis pokes, he never wants to pry. He nods into the silence, waiting - hoping - for there to be more.

“Nothing serious,” Harry says eventually once Louis has started to stare into his pinot like it’s going to hold an answer instead.

Louis glances up but Harry is staring out over the canyon. It feels safe sitting up on the edge, like they are so small and inconsequential, anything they say will just float to the bottom and be brushed away by the river.

“I don’t think I’m really ready for anything serious again,” he says after a beat passes.

Louis swallows and nods, tongue running along his teeth. He tells himself he’s getting to know Harry, not depending on his answers. It’s not like they’re dating - or that Louis himself is even looking for something more for Harry and himself. He likes unattached, he does it well. He takes too big of a drink of wine and pretends he’s not lying.

“Got it,” Louis says once he swallows and finds his voice again. “And they get that? The other people you date?”

If Harry is freaked out by Louis’s line of questioning he doesn’t let on. “I don’t go into it with the outlook things won’t work out,” Harry says. “I’m just not surprised when I’m the one who backs away after we hang out a couple of times or whatever. I guess I can tell when things won’t work out so I don’t put myself through it.”

“Bit pessimistic?”

Harry huffs out a quiet laugh. “Realistic,” he says. “Scared.”

Scared makes Louis’s heart clench slightly before it resumes its regular programming. Harry is scared to make the leap with the chance he’ll fall so he stays standing still. For a guy who has charmed his way in and out of each of Louis’s ribs so much they feel tied together, he can’t help but feel the edge of sadness curling over Harry’s words.

“Do you?” Harry asks when Louis stays quiet. “Do you date?”

Louis bites his lip over a smile and looks the opposite direction of Harry’s curious face. He should have known this question was coming and he walked himself into it anyway. Now he has to explain to a boy begging for people to be gentle with his heart, that Louis tends to be brash when it comes to romance, gun shy to commitment.

“I don’t think it’s called dating,” he finally settles on. “I tend to get involved with people who aren’t looking for more than what I’m looking for.” It always gets messy when one person is too attached; he doesn’t want to say that to Harry of all people. Louis closes his eyes for a moment and then empties his wine glass just for something to do. He wonders if what Louis has just said is making Harry think of Matt.

“You can call it hooking up,” Harry says. Louis doesn’t trace hurt in his voice. “I’m not like, a blushing virgin, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Louis says just about as innuendo-laden as he can imagine and it makes Harry laugh, cracking open any lingering tension.

“It’s not like I stopped believing there’s someone out there for me,” Louis says. “I do feel like I’m biding my time waiting for them, though.”

“And it’s fine to have fun in the meantime?”

“Exactly,” Louis says with a nod. “I don’t trick anyone into thinking I have more to offer than I do. When I find a person who I want to give what I have, they’ll know.”

“Because you’ll tell them,” Harry leads, smirking. It’s what they talked about at the lake in New Mexico when Louis though Harry would drown him if he didn’t promise to be straightforward with people.

“Yes, Harry,” Louis goes for patronizing and lands it; Harry rolls his eyes with a smirk.

Louis feels like he’s taken the rather pleasant track of the night and pushed it over a dark edge. He clears his throat and attempts to fix it. “Ideal world, what makes you fall in love again?” He points at Harry, “Ready, go.”

“The right person, yeah?” Harry scrunches his lips, “Too cliché?”

“For you, yes,” Louis says. “You might push the right person away because you get scared and then you lose them.”

“Wow, an insult and a threat,” Harry says with wide eyes. “You’re on a roll.”

Louis watches Harry’s gaze drop to the blanket and he feels like a jerk. He traces two fingers along the back of Harry’s hand until he looks up. “I wasn’t saying that to be mean,” he says earnestly. “I really do want to know what it will take for you not to be scared to fall in love.” He keeps his voice quiet and light but somehow when they hold each other’s eyes as he speaks, it seems like far more than a question between friends.

“I don’t know,” Harry says. “I really don’t.”

Louis can’t tell if he’s lying or truly unsure but decides not to press, not anymore tonight at least. “Maybe you’ll know,” Louis says. “It’ll hit you like lightning in a goddamn Lightning Field and you’ll know.”

Harry smiles and his shoulders curve forward as he tries not to laugh. “Yeah, maybe.”

Louis waits for Harry to ask him the same question but it doesn’t come. Instead, it stays soft lit and quiet as Harry finishes his wine and sets the empty glass on the tray.

“If this was a date,” he says slowly, “I’d say it’s one of the most romantic dates I’ve ever been on.”

Harry’s statement comes out of nowhere and Louis can’t help his surprise. He realizes his hand is still touching the back of Harry’s and he leaves it where it is. “If this were a date,” he says just as slowly as Harry did, “I would say it’s been one of my favorites.”

Harry’s smile is soft in the dark and Louis feels like there’s a sparkler behind his ribs. He wants this to be a date so fucking badly he almost can’t take it. There’s nothing he can do about it, though. As with most things, wanting badly isn’t always good enough. Especially not when they just had a conversation to underline their dating history and dot question marks over what exactly they’re doing with each other now. Louis doesn’t date, if he does, he leaves first. Harry doesn’t want to be left so he bites his tongue over his feelings. It all seems so compact in an ugly box with a haphazard bow.

“It’s hard to beat the Grand Canyon,” Harry says, pulling him back. “I didn’t think it would be romantic at face value.”

“Just a big hunk of rocks,” Louis agrees. “Then you add some sunset and some wine and you’ve got yourself romance.”

Harry opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, eyes dropping to Louis’s lips before he shakes his head minutely and lets the quiet fall.

They order a piece of chocolate cake for dessert and share it between them, playing their usual sword game with their forks and telling stories about odd dates they’ve been on in the past. Louis gets to tell the story of the boy who propositioned him with a threesome on their first date and Harry laughs his way through a story about making out in some girl’s Honda Civic when he was sixteen and getting caught by her father.

When it seems they’re the last ones left at the restaurant - something that is becoming a staple for them - they get up to leave, stretching out their legs and finding themselves on the comfortable side of tipsy. They follow the lanterns back the way they came, thanking the staff and then pausing for Harry to take a few photos with his phone since his camera is back in the room.

Their feet scuff the gravel as they make their way back to the lodge and Louis reaches for Harry’s hand without really considering, letting their fingers twist together in the easiest way. Harry squeezes his hand without looking and Louis smiles as he looks out into the darkness.

This is where their relationship exists the most, Louis thinks. When the sun disappears and they are the only ones on the streets; they don’t hesitate to touch and pull each other close. All of the questions and weird thoughts don’t exist in the darkness. Here, anything they want belongs without question.

The lobby of the Bright Angel Lodge is empty when they arrive, the lights dim but the giant stuffed bear still there, in all its glory. Louis pushes Harry with a hand on his chest to stand in front of the bear for a picture, something they both giggle about far longer than is actually necessary.

They hold hands as they get in the elevator, quiet engulfing them as the doors slide shut. Louis leans against the back wall and studies Harry’s hand in his, fingers tracing the tattoos and a scar near his knuckle.

He wants to know each and every one of the scars and freckles on Harry’s body. He wants to be the only one who knows how to follow the roadmap of Harry’s skin and he feels irrationally jealous someone probably already has done that. He bites his tongue over saying anything out loud, more than sure it would send Harry running for the hills. He’s getting good at this, pressing his feelings down into his gut.  

The elevator makes a quiet noise to announce their arrival and they step out slowly, Harry already pulling Louis gently in the direction of their room. Louis digs his heels in and stops him. Harry turns around, confused, and Louis takes advantage of the momentum, pulling Harry into his body with a soft thud that presses them together.

“Hi,” Harry says with a smile, his lips dark from the wine.

“Hi,” Louis says on a swallow. He lifts his finger to slowly trace the Cupid’s Bow of Harry’s lip and Harry lets him, holding his breath in the process. “Thank you for inviting me to your romantic dinner.”

Harry huffs a laugh that makes Louis smiles. “Was it better than a hike?”

“Much,” Louis whispers. “You know what the best part is?” They’re so close together, his words dance across Harry’s lips.

“What?” Harry breathes, his eyes roaming Louis’s face.

“We got to save all our energy,” Louis says with a sly smile. He punctuates it with a kiss that Harry suddenly hijacks, his hands on Louis’s hips in a moment as he pushes Louis back against the wall of the hallway.

The lodge fades away to nothing but Harry’s mouth on Louis’s and their bodies pressed together. Harry presses kisses along Louis’s jaw and down his neck, his hands roaming down Louis’s back to his ass and dragging them closer.

"We need to get in the room," Louis manages to gasp when Harry starts to make a mark on his neck.  
  
"Yes," Harry says without lifting his head and Louis actually laughs. He's already starting to get hard in his jeans with Harry's mouth on him and he thinks their compromised position may be frightening if any of the other guests venture into the hallway.  
  
"Harry," he says again, pulling on Harry's hair to get him to look up. His cheeks are already pink and his eyes are heavy with lust as he kisses Louis again. Louis knows he's the one who started this in the hallway but this isn't how they're going to finish. "We need to go in the room."  
  
Harry pulls back and nods this time, "Right. Sorry."  
  
Louis smiles slowly, "Nothing to be sorry about. I just would prefer if you weren't wearing clothes and that's inappropriate in a publicly shared space, yeah?"  
  
He cackles when Harry takes off at a sprint down the hallway, his laughter sure to rouse a few people's curiosities. He swears he hears the lock flip on the door nearest him and he takes off at the same speed Harry just did, hands scrambling for the room key in his pants.

 

*

  
When their door clicks closed behind them, it's like a starting bell goes off. Louis has Harry pressed against the wall as he kisses him, hands wandering under his shirt and across his stomach, over his hips and to the small of his back. Harry bites on Louis's lip and then soothes it with his tongue, tasting like wine and moonlight.  
  
Harry starts to direct Louis backward by the hips, their lips not parting but for brief gasps of air, not bothering to turn on the lights. Louis has his hands up in Harry's hair, messing it up and tangling it, when Harry pulls back suddenly.  
  
"I can't."  
  
Louis feels the words like a cold hit to his stomach, his eyes opening and reality slicing back in. Louis scrambles for the right thing to say, to tell him it's fine, to tell him it doesn't have to change anything - but Harry isn't looking at him. Louis follows his gaze and lands on the giant fish on the wall, laughter spluttering from his lips.  
  
"The fish?"  
  
"It made my dick go soft," Harry says seriously and Louis can't keep from laughing again.  
  
He draws his hand from Harry's hair and drags it down his body to his crotch, cupping him through his jeans and watching his eyelashes flutter. "Can't have that, darling," he says, pressing a quick kiss to Harry's cheek and then flitting away. He jumps up on the bed with one smooth motion and tries to lift the fish off the wall. It doesn't budge.  
  
"Fucking fish," he mutters as he tries again. There's still no movement and then Harry is on the bed next to him, gripping the wooden mount around the edge of the fish and wiggling.  
  
"Oh my god, they superglued him to the wall," he says with wide eyes like it should be offensive. Louis can't stop laughing once he starts, his knees buckling as he falls to the bed, staring up at Harry's offended face.  
  
"What are we going to do?" Louis hiccups between his laughter because, honestly, this is the most ridiculous thing to ever happen in the midst of his best effort to get laid.  
  
Harry stares at the fish menacingly and then he jumps off the bed and goes for the small love seat in the corner of the room. He grabs a throw from the back, an ugly brown one, and then he's running across the room again as Louis reclines back to watch. Harry meticulously tucks the edges of the blanket around the fish until it, quite terribly, looks like a blob of mud on the wall. Louis laughs to himself at Harry's determination, the crease between his eyebrows as he tries to cover the thing completely.  
  
"You should be an interior designer, baby."  
  
Harry puts his hands on his hips and looks down at Louis, smirking. "Yeah?"  
  
"No," Louis says incredulously. "That looks terrible."  
  
"Hey," Harry pouts and then falls to his knees, bouncing once on the mattress before crawling over to Louis and straddling him.  
  
"Did I ruin your dreams?" Louis asks, his hands going to the sides of Harry's thighs like a reflex.  
  
"Yeah," Harry says loudly, "You did."  
  
"I'm sorry," Louis says, sweetly. "Kiss me and I'll make it better."  
  
"Don't have to ask me twice," Harry murmurs and then he blurs from Louis's vision as he leans down to connect their mouths again.  
  
Kissing Harry is easy to get lost in. His lips are perpetually soft and warm; each breath he takes is a quiet flutter against Louis's mouth. He wanders with his kisses, along Louis's jaw and down the side of his neck, over the ink of his collarbones and then Louis has to throw his head back he sucks a mark just above the curve of his shirt. Louis lets him do it, tucks his hands in the pockets of Harry's jeans and lets him work, humming lowly against Louis's chest and pinching his skin with his teeth.  
  
He looks up at Louis again with a sly smile. "Payback," he whispers.  
  
Louis rolls his eyes and then rolls them so he can straddle Harry instead. He undoes the buttons on Harry's shirt with quick fingers, kissing each inch of exposed skin without lifting his lips in between. He can feel the flutter of Harry's abs under his mouth and the tightening of them when he kisses along the waistband of Harry's jeans. Louis tries to inhale subtly as he runs his nose over the curve of Harry's belly. He smells like summer with a tinge of something sweet and he laughs when Louis kisses the swell of his hip.  
  
Louis undoes the button on Harry's jeans and then sits up to slip his shirt over his shoulders and then tug his tee off. Harry sits up to kiss him, his hands roaming the curve of Louis's hips as Louis splits his lips with his tongue and presses inside his mouth, memorizing the edges of Harry's teeth with his tongue.  
  
It's all aimless as they kiss, Louis in Harry's lap. Their hands don't seem to be reaching for anything as they explore, their lips parting on every odd gasp. Louis is content to keep it going even as he feels Harry's cock filling where it's pressed against his thigh, his own jeans seeming to get tighter as he adjusts his hips.  
  
"What do you want?" Louis figures to ask when he's out of breath and starting to get a bit more antsy for some definitive purpose in their movements.  
  
"I don't know," Harry says. He laughs when Louis pushes his shoulders and Harry falls back against the bed. "I'm serious," he adds with a smile.  
  
"Sure," Louis says, biting gently on Harry's ear and then in a trail down his neck. He runs his fingers softly over Harry's chest and catches the missed breath when he touches Harry's nipples. He smiles wickedly as he scoots down the bed and licks the same path his fingers have just traced. He bites and sucks lightly, kisses and blows cool air until Harry is absolutely squirming under him, each cut off moan replaced with something higher and softer.  
  
"Have any ideas yet, babe?" Louis asks as he sits up, thumbs rubbing circles on Harry's reddened skin. "Or I can keep going?"  
  
Harry barks out a laugh as he puts his hands to his eyes like he can't believe what's happening. "Fingers," he finally manages.  
  
Louis tilts his head, "Huh?"  
  
Harry drops his hands and meets Louis's eyes. "Can I finger you?"  
  
It's a simple question, a graphic one at that, but it still takes Louis a moment to answer, his mouth opening and closing. "You're just gonna ask me like that?" He says with wide eyes, "The same way you asked me if I liked olives the other day at lunch?"  
  
Harry raises his eyebrows. "Do you want to fight about this?"  
  
Louis shakes his head. "No, not really." He dips forward to kiss Harry and then he scrambles off the bed, pulling off his jeans and kicking off his shoes in a mad rush before getting back on the bed and lying flat. Harry hasn't so much as moved from his position.  
  
"Eager?"  
  
"You've got no fucking idea," he says, wiggling his hips.  
  
Watching Harry take off his rings is the most erotic thing Louis's seen in his entire life, he's pretty sure. Either that, or he's too turned on for his own good watching each ring land against the nightstand and then studying the broadness of Harry's shoulders and thin line of his hips when he gets up.  
  
Louis sticks his hand in his briefs while Harry goes to his bag and digs around. He presses on his cock to keep himself calm but it's not enough and he ends up with his hand wrapped around himself, pulling lightly when Harry turns back.  
  
"Are you starting without me?" Harry asks, walking back to the bed with a small tube in his hand. Louis grins.  
  
"You're taking too long, darling," he says smugly.  
  
Harry laughs as he crawls over Louis again and then they’re laughing against each other's mouths and, god, all Louis can think is that this is what he wants. This laughter and heat and teasing is all he wants each night and it's a tough pill to swallow he doesn't get to keep Harry come morning light.

Harry hooking his thumb in the waistband of his underwear is enough to pull him from his reverie, his hips lifting as an assist. Harry throws Louis’s boxers over his shoulder and looks at him like he’s dessert. Louis thinks he nearly blacks out as Harry finally leans down to kiss him.

 

*

  
"I can't feel my legs."  
  
"You can't feel your legs? I feel like you gave me an epidural with your tongue."  
  
"An epidural?" Harry sits up, his hair sticking up and chest still shiny with sweat. "Isn't that for pregnant women?"  
  
Louis raises his eyebrows, "Do you want to fight about this?"  
  
Harry laughs and lays back down, his head pillowed on Louis's chest. It feels as though they've ran a marathon, still trying to catch their breath.  
  
Louis thought he'd reached nirvana when he fed his cock between Harry's lips two nights ago but somehow Harry's mouth on him, a bottle of lube, and slick fingers brought him to a higher state of being all together. There's something magic in Harry's tongue and the way he waited for Louis to tell him what to do, to tell him when it was good or how to adjust. His fingers may be more wicked than his tongue, the way he pressed two inside of Louis and twisted them, making Louis see white spots and dancing elephants in his vision. He's not sure where the elephants came from, Harry Styles may just be a sex god in disguise. He came so hard his entire body clenched like a vice and it was enough to make his legs go numb. Like a goddamn epidural.  
  
He runs his fingers through the top of Harry's hair, breathing in his shampoo mixed with sweat. He doesn't usually love the moments after sex but, of course, with Harry it feels like an extension of everything good between them. The soft way Harry breathes against his chest, the way Louis swears his can feel Harry's heartbeat against him.  
  
It's a different version of Harry than the one Louis had between his legs. The one who licked up Louis's come and then kissed him hard, harsh breaths from his nose against Louis's face. Louis hadn't even had to do much to make Harry come, just take him in his hand and whisper absolute filth in his ear. Harry came with his face tucked against Louis's neck, his whole body twitching as his orgasm seemed to consume him, a silent scream pressed to Louis's skin.  
  
Louis takes a deep breath. He knows it's been a long time since he's done more with a guy than suck them off in a bathroom stall but everything feels brand new with Harry. Every experience better than the last to the point he may be becoming addicted. Addicted to Harry's stupid jokes and sweet personality, his hot body and the way he moves in bed - Louis exhales. He's so fucked for Harry Styles he doesn't know when he's going to have to actually admit it to himself.  
  
"Can we call room service?" Harry asks into the silent room.  
  
"Yeah," Louis says, reaching for the phone. "What do you want, sweetheart?" Sweetheart. He bites his tongue for that one.  
  
"I want a plate of fries," Harry says. "And I want them to take that stupid fucking fish off the stupid wall."  
  
Louis laughs so hard, he drops the phone.

  
*

[DAY TWELVE](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166131753879/day-twelve-heaven-oasis-resort-spa-sedona)

Grand Canyon, Arizona

 

It’s too soon, Louis thinks. Too soon to edge on consciousness and already know whose warm body is pressed up against his. Too soon to smile before he even opens his eyes because Harry is asleep on his chest and snoring like a kitten.

By his count, he’s known Harry for twelve days and that doesn’t seem near enough time to feel the way he does. The warmth curling in his stomach, the protectiveness swirling behind his ribs. He wants to know everything about Harry, he wants Harry to know everything about him. Neither of those things are anywhere near what he is allowed to ask for.

What he is allowed to ask for, he thinks, is playful kissing and wandering touches; pretending to be together in all the ways that don’t matter as long as they keep their hearts securely apart, never title anything more than nothing.

He swallows and it feels on the wrong edge of painful. He’s not the one who gets caught up, he’s not the one who gets left. Laying here with Harry’s warmth on top of him, he thinks both of those things may have just become true.

Not without effort, Louis rolls out from underneath Harry and onto the floor like a spy. Or, he feels like a spy. His boxers are uneven and inside out, his back is scratched, his hair is a mess - so maybe not James Bond in the making. It doesn’t help that he stubs his toe on the way to the bathroom and shrieks in surprise either. Harry doesn’t even budge and Louis wonders if he should be offended.

He decides not to be - after he uses the restroom and finds Harry still sound asleep in bed. He’s curled his body around the pillow where Louis had been, completely eclipsing Louis’s spot in the bed.

The clock on the side table reads just after seven and Louis really doesn’t want to be the reason they have to get back on the road. Having a lazy morning with Harry is high up on the list of things he wants, the things he is pretty sure he’s not allowed to have.

Unless, of course, he steals it.

He skirts the edge of the bed to get in on the opposite side of where he left, slowly adjusting the covers as he folds into Harry, melting into the position of a spoon against Harry’s sleep warm back. Louis kisses the corner of Harry’s shoulder because it’s there and then lets his head fall back against the pillow. He barely closes his eyes when Harry’s raspy voice slices the room.

“Was I not a good big spoon?”

Louis keeps his eyes closed and pretends like he’s fallen into a Sleeping Beauty type of deep sleep but Harry rolls his hips back against him and, yeah, Louis can’t really ignore that.

“Not to my liking, no,” he says, his lips twitching into a poorly hidden smile.

Harry turns around like a cat caught in a pillowcase, shaking the entire bed and kneeing Louis in the stomach twice with his ridiculous legs. So much for a lazy morning.

“Good morning,” he says when he gets settled again.

Louis laughs over his own, “Good morning,” only a tiny bit endeared Harry needed to look him in the face to say it.

“Why were you sneaking around?” Harry asks as his eyes roam Louis’s face. The soft underside of Louis’s heart wants to say he’s trying to memorize the lines but he’s not sure that’s true.

“Sneaking around?” Louis raises his eyebrows, “I took a piss. Literally.” Louis studies the small indent between Harry’s eyebrows, the way it deepens at his words.

“But I thought you’d come back to bed?”

“I did,” Louis says. “Where do you think we are right now? I switched sides.” He runs his finger over Harry’s cheekbone to catch a stray eyelash before putting his hand under the side of his head.

“You could have taken your spot back,” Harry says easily. “I was keeping it warm.”

Louis’s laugh comes out like a soft bark. “Yeah, you looked dead to the world, babe. I wasn’t planning to bother you.”

“That’s sweet,” Harry says, a smile crawling slowly over his face.

Louis rolls his eyes. “More like I knew if you woke up, we’d have to actually start the day and I was hoping to sleep longer.”

Harry frowns, “We can sleep longer.”

“Can we?” Louis says, squinting. “You seem pretty bright eyed right now, like you’re ready to jump right out of bed.”

“I’m not,” Harry says, yawning theatrically. Louis raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “No, really, I’m tired. We can go back to sleep right now.”

As if to prove a point, Harry rolls so his back is to Louis but crowds in close so they’re pressed together. Louis watches in slight awe as Harry backs into him and then lays his head on the pillow, tugging Louis’s arm low over his stomach in a very forced cuddle. Louis sighs and rolls his eyes, yet again. Of all people, he had to go get a crush on Harry Styles.

He flattens his palm over Harry’s stomach and feels each deep breath he takes against his hand. It starts to lull him and he closes his eyes. Maybe the lazy morning he wanted isn’t so far away after all.

Barely two minutes pass before Harry huffs and rolls on his back, dislodging Louis. “I’m so sorry,” he says plainly, “I’m really not tired.”

Louis pretends to groan even as he laughs, Harry laughing lightly along with him.

“You stay here,” Harry says as he sits up. “I’ll shower and you can doze. I’ll take a long shower.”

Louis looks at him wearily and then shoos him off the bed. He doesn’t even watch him go, eyes closing again as he folds into Harry’s warm spot. He hears the shower start and he pretends its rain, soothing him to sleep.

Sleep never comes. He opens his eyes with a disgruntled sigh and rubs at his eyes. A warm bed had sounded like a dream but he can’t get into it anymore, sleep evading him as the morning rises.

“Fucking Harry,” he mutters as he sits up.

He gives himself a minute of contemplating forcing himself back to sleep before he gets out of bed and stretches. He listens to the running shower for only a moment before he walks across the room and hooks his thumbs in his boxers to get them off.

“If you can’t beat them, join them,” he mutters as he flings the bathroom door open.

Harry’s surprised grin at Louis appearing next to the shower quickly turns dirty as Louis steps inside - and it’s just like Deja vu. If Louis isn’t careful, his heart might get used to mornings like this.

*

The shower takes longer than it probably should and when they finally get out, their skin is flushed and Louis isn’t sure he got all of the shampoo out of his hair. The things he does in the name of pretty boys. Or, one pretty boy in particular.

Harry isn’t much better but he keeps composed as he walks around with just his towel around his hips, his back red with scratches from Louis’s hands. It’s a good look on him, Louis thinks. A better look was when he dropped to his knees in the shower and opened his mouth, the way his cheekbones stood out when he hollowed his cheeks, the way his green eyes met Louis’s as he took him deeper down his throat.

Louis clears his throat at the thought, mostly to pull himself out of dreamland but Harry hears him too, and smirks from across the room. They do a pretty good job at getting ready after that, pulling on jean shorts and t-shirts – shoving the rest of their clothes in their bags and zipping them shut.

Harry is laying on the bed with his feet still on the ground when Louis finishes brushing his teeth, a hotel brochure in front of his face.

“What are you looking for?” Louis asks, putting his toothbrush back in his bag.

“Doesn’t this seem like the kind of place that would have themed pancakes?”

“Themed?”

“Like a bear pancake with a face done in fruit and whip cream?”

Louis blinks twice. “What?”

Harry sits up and tosses the menu back to the nightstand. “I want pancakes and since we’re in a forest-themed lodge, I’m hoping they will make me bear pancakes.”

“You are six years old.”

Harry makes a buzzing sound followed by, “That’s false. I’m enthusiastic about our surroundings.”

“Yeah? You’re not so enthusiastic about the fish though, are you? That’s kind of biased.”

Harry stands up and shakes his head, getting his bag from the far corner. “Do not even get me started on that fish, again.”

Louis laughs and leads the way out of the room, casting around last glances for anything they’ve forgotten. They’re expert travelers by now, he’s pretty sure they have everything down to the finest details.

They’re waiting for the elevator when Harry bumps his hip against Louis’s, sending him off balance. Louis does it back and Harry laughs lightly.

“What?” Louis spins to face Harry and tilts his head. “Why is that funny?”

“Don’t know,” Harry shrugs, smiling.

“And why are you so happy?” Louis asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Is a man not allowed to be happy?”

Louis rubs his lips together. “I’m suspicious.”

“I hope they have bear pancakes,” Harry says, laughing over his words.

Louis blinks at him. “That’s why you’re so smiley?”

Harry shrugs again and it’s starting to look like he’s got a nervous tick. “Maybe.” Louis pinches his hip and Harry squeaks. “What? I don’t know why I’m so happy. It’s just a good day, okay?”

Louis hums as the elevator doors slide open and they step inside.

“Hey,” he says when the doors close.

“Hey,” Harry repeats, looking over at him. They stare at each other for barely a moment and then Harry grins again. “What?”

Louis lifts his shoulder and lets it fall. “Nothing.”

He can feel Harry staring at the side of his face and it’s almost like Louis can’t help himself when he leans over to kiss him. Quick and soft and then once more as the doors slide open into the lobby. Louis steps out first and he can’t help the butterflies shaking out their wings when Harry smiles at him shyly. He’s got a dirty mouth but an elevator kiss has left him speechless. Louis is in far too deep to make it out safely.

*

To Harry’s immense satisfaction and general joy, the restaurant in Bright Angel Lodge has pancakes arranged like bear faces with strawberry eyes, a banana nose and a whip cream smile. He convinces Louis to get the same – or, rather, speaks over Louis’s boring bagel request and orders for both of them.

The bears are as ludicrous as Louis imagines them to be when their plates arrive and definitely made for six year olds but Harry has a whole photo shoot with them and makes Louis hold up his plate for a portrait shot. Louis only complains a few times and on his last complaint, Harry silences him with a kiss on the wrong side of PG for a family restaurant. Louis doesn’t really mind.

Not minding is his new strategy, he thinks. They have limited time left on the road and when it all falls away; it could be the only time they have at all. There’s no telling what being back on campus will be like – he’s pretty sure it won’t be nights of sunsets and mornings of lazy kisses.

Instead of letting the lump in his throat push up, he swallows and takes a bite out his pancake-bear’s ear. For now, he has Harry and though he’s not sure what that means in the long run, for now it doesn’t have to mean anything. For now, it’s simply kissing Harry’s lips when he’s covered them in whip cream and holding his hand as they navigate the parking lot to the Jeep after breakfast. For now, it’s what he wants.

*

It’s cool enough they can drive with the windows down instead of the air conditioning, the breeze ruffling slowly through the car as they drive south to Sedona. Louis consulted the itinerary notebook before they took off for what potential activities Harry had planned but finds nothing listed.

“Is Sedona so boring there aren’t even museums?” Louis asks as he tosses the notebook toward Harry. Harry has a crossword puzzle book in his lap and it nearly tumbles with the impact of the itinerary.

“No,” Harry says, carefully putting the itinerary back in the glove compartment. “I decided I would take two days there instead of just passing through, There’s a pretty good contemporary art scene.”

“Ah, art,” Louis says drily, “My favorite.”

Harry doesn’t validate him with a response and then Louis is starting the car and putting on Lorde’s second album for the two hour drive. Harry crosses his left ankle over his right knee, and sets about his crossword puzzle with a purple ink pen.    
  
Louis only glances over once in a while, when it's safe to keep his eyes off the road - or when he deems it safe enough. He likes the way the sunlight shadows Harry's face and the way he chews on the end of his pen while he thinks of the next word for his game. He's so content to do something on his own whereas Louis would have already thrown the entire activity book out the window. In fact, he may have done something similar to that when his parents tried to make him read quietly on family road trips when he was a kid.  
  
It's funny, Louis thinks, that he doesn't mind the quiet like this with Harry. This aimless silence of driving with soft music. He likes that he's with Harry, he thinks. His mere presence a calming force as he hums to himself and looks out the windows every once in a while.  
  
He catches Louis looking at him a couple of times, like he can feel the weight of his gaze. Louis knows by the way he smirks to himself or by the way he'll look out of the corner of his eye and meet Louis's eyes.

*

 

Sedona is not a town for wayward, broke, collegiate travelers. As they drive the very outskirts, Louis spots resorts up every tree-lined driveway mixed in between tiny art galleries and breweries with huge patios. He doesn't see a motel for a few miles and he's not sure that's a good sign.  
  
"You know what we should do," Harry says, as if he's read Louis's mind. "We should splurge for a night at one of these resorts."  
  
"What?" Louis raises his eyebrows, "They probably cost as much as this whole trip combined."  
  
"I highly doubt that’s true," Harry says with a serious look. "It's probably a few hundred bucks."  
  
"You realize the lodge was fifty dollars each last night, right?"  
  
"Louis," Harry says seriously, turning in his seat so he's facing Louis. "You always say we should go on adventures, yeah?"  
  
Louis presses his lips together. "When they're the same adventures I want to go on, yeah." He growls when Harry pinches the side of his ribs. "Do you not value my honesty?"  
  
Harry rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth drawing up in a smirk. "Come on, it could be kind of fun. We can stay in the city instead of out on some random outskirt just because it's cheaper. It can be like Bricktown in Oklahoma."  
  
"Bricktown," Louis repeats, buying some time. The first night he realized he'd like nothing more than to kiss Harry, the night that thought made a home right behind his ribs and refused to leave. He doesn't like how much it would cost to stay in a resort but he likes the idea of staying - going out to a bar with Harry, dressing up for a nice dinner, holding hands as they go back to their room. Making out with Harry in a fancy room on a bed with some ridiculously high thread count sheets. He doesn't think he would mind that so much.  
  
"Come on, Lou," Harry says sweetly. He puts a hand on Louis's knee and gives the Harry Styles version of puppy-dog eyes. It's as if Louis never stood a chance.  
  
"We're getting the cheapest room," Louis says. "And we're only staying one night."  
  
Harry actually salutes him and Louis rolls his eyes.

  
  
*

  
They choose a resort and spa hidden behind an array of green trees and for the entire drive up to the front, Harry prattles on about how maybe he'll spend money to get a massage because his back has been hurting him with all the sitting they've done.  
  
"You have a bad back?" Louis pulls his eyes away from the rolling rocks leading to the front of Heaven Oasis Resort and Spa.  
  
"I have an extra vertebra," Harry says. "It aches sometimes."  
  
"I could give you a massage," Louis offers before even considering he's not that good of a masseuse to begin with. More of a receiver than a giver when it comes to spa-related activities.  
  
"Yeah," Harry snorts lightly. "If I want a massage with a happy ending, I'll let you know."  
  
"Hey," Louis says, even as he laughs. He gets out another laugh before he can speak again. "That might be a valid assumption."  
  
"I know," Harry says smugly. "I didn't say it was a bad one, either."  
  
Louis looks over and winks with the entire left side of his face. Harry laughs and looks away.  
  
There's a valet at the front door but Louis parks on his own, not overly excited about paying someone to do something he's fully capable of. The grounds are gorgeous, he has to admit. There's a running creek somewhere in the distance and there's more greenery than he's seen in all of Arizona. There's even a slight coolness to the air which Louis didn't think existed anywhere in the state.  
  
"Oh my god," Harry says, as soon as they get out of the car. "It's a wedding."  
  
Once Louis calms from Harry's startled outburst, he pays attention to what he's actually looking at, a wedding just down the back of the resort property. It hasn't started yet but it's already obvious what it is with floral arches and white chairs all lined up. There are a handful people milling around and Louis can almost feel the nervous excitement in the air.  
  
"Good job," he says to Harry, nodding like he's impressed. Harry pokes him in the stomach.  
  
"This is such a dreamy location," Harry says, crossing his arms to observe the details of the ceremony set up. They're too far away to properly see anything but Louis lets Harry go on. "The shade trees are great and then there's slices of sun too which is perfect for photos," he muses. "The flowers along the backs of the chairs is a really nice touch." He talks so quietly, Louis wonders if he's even supposed to hear him.  
  
"Are you a wedding planner disguised as an Art History major?" Louis asks with raised eyebrows when Harry remarks on the slant of the ground being higher where the bride and groom will be.  
  
"No," Harry says, cheeks turning a slight pink. "I love weddings."  
  
"Yeah?" Louis smiles, "Thought about yours a lot?" He doesn't know why he says it except they always ask each other questions like this. It's why he feels like he's known Harry his whole life, after all.  
  
"Sometimes I do." Harry switches his hips and rocks back on his feet as if to stretch his back. "When I'm not feeling pessimistic about romance."  
  
"Where's your dream location for a wedding, then?"  
  
"By a lake," Harry says quickly and then he bites his lip. "That was too quick to answer, wasn't it? I should have drawn it out."  
  
"It's fine," Louis says, shaking his head. "I think it's sweet you've even thought about it."  
  
"Sweet," Harry repeats with a nod, pressing his lips together.  
  
Louis feels an odd twist in his belly at Harry's reaction but he presses on. "So, a lake?"  
  
Harry smiles slowly. "Yeah, I guess. I would love to have the ceremony with the lake just beyond where we do the vows and then rent out a bunch of cabins for the weekend or whatever. So our family and friends could all stay and celebrate, not just rush in for one night. I want it to be a celebration of our love and our future, not an obligation."  
  
"Our?" Louis repeats, blinking slowly.  
  
Harry groans and looks away. "Me and my potential future partner," he corrects. "Not you and me. Is that better?"  
  
Louis laughs. "I wasn't suggesting you meant you and me," he says, realizing what Harry heard in his question. "I was just remarking on the way you used the inclusive form for friends and family. I like that idea."  
  
Harry actually covers his face and Louis's eyebrows pull together confused.  
  
"What?" He asks, pulling Harry's hand down, his fingers wrapped gently over Harry's wrists. Harry is beautifully flushed but it's different than when they fool around. This is a flush of innocence and playful embarrassment, coloring his cheeks and down his neck. Louis smiles. "What?" He asks again.  
  
"I'm a bit embarrassed I thought you were proposing marriage," he says, laughing. "That's kind of awkward."  
  
"Embarrassing, yes," Louis says with a firm nod. "But I think we're past awkward, babe. We've been sharing bedrooms and bathrooms for twelve days now. There's not a lot you can hide from me."  
  
Harry tilts his head side to side, "I can hide some stuff, I think."  
  
"Like what?" Louis asks, dropping his hands back to his side when he realizes his thumbs are circling Harry's wrist bones.  
  
"Mysteries," Harry says, his face returning to normal color.  
  
Louis pouts out his bottom lip, "Secrets don't make friends."  
  
Harry shrugs in agreement, "Maybe not." He closes the space between them and kisses Louis, slowly with a simmer of heat. "Kisses do."  
  
"I don't kiss all my friends," Louis says when Harry pulls back. He knows he's supposed to not be caring about what it is that they're doing but sometimes he feels like he needs to point it out. What they're doing is not normal, surely Harry knows that, too.  
  
Harry smiles like he's got a secret, "Neither do I."  
  
Louis really doesn't know what to say to that.  
  
"Shall we go check in?"  
  
Louis follows along behind Harry, neither of them grabbing their bags. It's probably best to see what kind of fortune they charge for rooms at a resort called Heaven Oasis before they truly commit. As if Louis will actually be able to get Harry away now that there's a wedding happening. He keeps looking over as they walk, like he's waiting for someone to invite him to attend.  
  
"I wonder where they're honeymooning," Louis asks. "Probably going to get a bunch of free shit."  
  
"Do you think that's true?" Harry asks, finally looking away from the set-up and over at Louis. "Newlyweds get free stuff?"  
  
"Uh, yeah," Louis says. "They have that gift registry and then they mention they've just gotten married and everyone just throws things at them. Well wishes for a happy life or a happy few years before the sex goes stale and someone cheats."  
  
"Wow," Harry drags out lowly. "Romance is in the air, eh?"  
  
Louis smiles sheepishly, "Sorry."  
  
"I hope one day I get to find out if it's all it's cracked up to be," Harry says with a nod. "And I hope whoever I marry is fun enough that even when we've been married for five years, we still go to restaurants and pretend we're on our honeymoon to get free dessert."  
  
Louis laughs at the proclamation and then stops short as he reaches for the ornate front doors to the lobby of Heaven Oasis.  
  
"What?" Harry whispers, glancing around.  
  
Louis licks his lips, mind running through an idea, lips pursing as he tries to calculate logistics.  
  
"What?" Harry asks again, slightly more frantic.  
  
"Give me a ring," Louis says, turning so he's facing Harry and they're blocked from view from the inside.  
  
"What?" Harry asks even as he slips off a silver ring from his right hand.  
  
"You sound like a parrot," Louis says. He puts the ring on his left hand, the fit too perfect to begin to think about. "Move that ring to your ring finger," he instructs pointing at Harry's middle finger.  
  
Harry does it with wide eyes, clearly not catching on to Louis's plan. "What the fuck is going on?"  
  
Louis smiles and takes a deep breath. "I need you to go with what's about to happen," he says. "Don't break character and don't ask questions."  
  
"Character?" Harry asks, bewildered as Louis pulls open the front door. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Louis doesn't listen, eyes scanning the luxurious lobby and landing on the man at the front desk with a bow tie and curious eye already on the two of them. Harry's panicked expression is surely not doing them any favors.  
  
Louis licks his lips and twirls to face Harry. "Kiss me," he whispers as he leans in.  
  
Harry does as he is asked though Louis takes control. He pulls Harry in until they're pressed together, his hand cupped around Harry's neck as he moves his mouth slowly. He parts Harry's lips with his tongue and then pushes inside, Harry gasping quietly in response. Louis keeps going, biting on Harry's lip and soothing it the way that makes Harry's whole body tighten like he's trying to keep it together. For his final act, Louis slides both hands down Harry's back to his ass and then squeezes as he pulls Harry in further. Harry's low moan goes straight to Louis's cock and they have to separate pretty quickly after that. They do have a job to do.  
  
Harry looks stricken when Louis opens his eyes, his eyes dark and lips red. Louis winks and grabs his hand, sauntering up to the front desk. He takes a deep breath. This is going to be like the Lightning Field's but on steroids, if he wants to get them maximum payout. He licks his lips and smiles.  
  
"Hello," he says, tugging Harry up alongside him when the front desk agent greets them. Even his cheeks are a bit red as he looks between the two of them and Louis thinks they might be in a good place already.  
  
"Sorry about that," he says conversationally, shaking his head with wide eyes and a stupid smile. "We've only been married for a day and we're not quite over it." He holds up his hand with Harry's ring.  
  
"Oh wow," the front desk guy, Greg according to his name tag, says. "That's amazing. Congratulations."  
  
"Thank you," Louis says emphatically. "We've been around our friends and family for three days straight and we're more than ready to get to the honeymoon part," he says with a wink. Harry shifts next to him and Louis pulls their joined hands around Harry's hip to bring them closer together.  
  
"Where was the wedding?" Greg asks. "If you don't mind my asking."  
  
"Not at all," Louis says, grinning. "It was actually at the sweetest lake just outside of Holbrook," he says. "You know the one?" Louis thinks of the unmarked signs that lead them to that lake two days ago, the way they kissed in the wet sunlight.  
  
"Can't say I'm familiar."  
  
"It is kind of a secluded spot," Louis murmurs. "But it was perfect. We had all of our family stay in cabins near the lake and then we had the ceremony right on the water’s edge." He sighs for effect and shakes his head, "It was magic, really. You know the best part?"  
  
Greg leans closer, smiling. "What?"  
  
"I got to keep him at the end of it," Louis says after a pause. He knocks his hip against Harry's and then kisses the side of his neck. Harry blinks quickly and then half smiles, a poor attempt at staying in character but Louis lets it go.  
  
"That's romantic," Greg says, looking between them. "What a sweet thing to say."  
  
"It's true," Louis says. "My dream come true, you know." Harry nudges his hip when it goes quiet and Louis remembers this is a one man show and Harry has no idea what he’s doing. "Anyway, we fly to Paris in a couple of days but we wanted to stay somewhere romantic until then. We've heard such lovely things about this place. Our friends Rick and Erika stayed here last year."  
  
Harry actually chokes and Louis rubs his hand up his back, kissing the side of his shoulder.  
  
"Do you have reservations?" Greg asks, rubbing his hand together.  
  
Louis laughs lightly, "No. We were so excited for our wedding and then Paris, we kind of skipped the days in the middle." He slides so he's in front of Harry, his back to Harry's chest and their hands all kinds of twisted around each other. It's so fucking ridiculous.  
  
"Let me see what I can do," Greg says after staring for a moment. "I think we might be able to work something out." There's some key clicking on the keyboard and then Greg excuses himself to the back room as Louis rocks back and forth in Harry's arms.  
  
Harry leans in close, his breath warm on Louis's ear. "What the fuck is going on?" He whispers.  
  
"We're trying out the newlywed theory, baby," Louis says with a sweet smile while barely moving his lips.  
  
Harry runs his lips over Louis's ear and sends shivers up his back. He puts his hands on Louis's hips to stop them mid-sway. "Stop running your ass over my dick or we're going to be in a bit of a situation," he whispers.  
  
Louis throws his head back laughing and he's mid-cackle when Greg reappears from the back room.  
  
"Sorry about the wait Mr. -"  
  
"Tomlinson," Louis says.  
  
"Styles," Harry says, deciding now is a good time to partake in the conversation.  
  
Louis laughs to cover it. "Hyphenated. Tomlinson-Styles."  
  
"Right," Greg says without missing a beat. "We'd like to offer you the honeymoon suite for half off of the price tonight and no charge for tomorrow night. It includes all of the standard spa packages and private dinner reservations on the terrace."  
  
Harry squeezes Louis's hip and hides his smile against the side of Louis's neck. "Oh god, wow," Louis gushes. "That would be incredible, Greg. Thank you so much."  
  
"The least I could do," Greg says, back to clicking on the keyboard. He holds up his left hand, "My fiancé and I are getting married in Jamaica next summer. I know the feeling."  
  
"Jamaica," Louis repeats with a smile. He's definitely using Jamaica as his next fake wedding destination. "Sounds amazing."  
  
Greg smiles and gets a far off look in his eyes that Louis instantly hopes he can replicate someday. He hopes he marries someone who makes him go a bit starry eyed in public places.  
  
"Why don't you both make your way to the bar," he says, gesturing toward the other side of the lobby. "I'll get you checked in and have someone get your bags to your room."  
  
"Really?" Louis can't quite believe this is real. "Thank you," he says only to be echoed by Harry. Louis hands over the car keys and points out the Jeep in the parking lot outside. They make it away from Greg with a few more rounds of gracious thanks.  
  
"That was amazing," Harry whispers as he takes Louis’s hands in his. "I don't even know what to do."  
  
Louis smiles, "When I was a kid, I also wanted to be an actor. Could have been a good one, yeah?"  
  
Harry shakes his head, still in disbelief. "You used my dream wedding as our fake wedding."  
  
Louis snorts, "Yeah, sorry."  
  
Harry licks his lip. "I feel frazzled."  
  
"Frazzled," Louis repeats turning to face him halfway to the bar.  
  
"Part impressed, part offended you used my wedding, part turned on."  
  
Louis stops, "Turned on?"  
  
"It turns out you grinding against me while lying about a wedding for free shit is one of my kinks."  
  
Louis's laughter bubbles as he squeezes Harry's hand. "If you're lucky, I'll suck you off in the honeymoon suite later," he says.  
  
Harry does the sign of the cross and they both laugh as they enter the bar hand in hand.

*

They get a bit day drunk.

It’s not even intentional but the bartender overheard their story at the front desk and has two glasses of Rosé waiting for them. With one glance at each other, they gladly accept. One glass of Rosé turns to two and then they order the house sangria and each finish a glass of that. They play up the newlywed thing a bit more just in case anyone actually cares to follow up on their story. Halfway through the sangria, Harry decides to start telling the bartender about how they first met and makes it such an extravagant narrative that Louis ends up just covering Harry’s mouth with his hand to get him to shut up.

“Should we go to our room, love?” Louis asks tensely when Harry looks over, confused. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are shining with the excitement from their little game but Louis really doesn’t want their cover to break before they even get to use the first night in the fancy hotel.

“Yes, we should, love,” Harry parrots back and laughs over his words, his dimples too cute for Louis to be completely annoyed.

Somehow the bartender has their room key card and hands it over with a knowing smirk which makes Louis blush and Harry laugh even louder. To a wine-drunk Harry, everything is pure comedy.

Louis holds Harry's hand on the walk to the elevator and though he tells himself it's because Greg is watching from the front desk he knows it’s really, really not. He likes the way Harry's hand fits in his, the warm weight of it and the way his fingers twitch when he talks.  
  
The elevator has a mirror on the ceiling and Harry takes a picture of them with his phone while they look up at it. It's a bit disorienting when they look straight ahead again and they end up laughing to each other as they try to stay standing upright. Somehow the laughing turns to kissing and then Louis has Harry pinned against the side of the elevator as he grabs at Harry's waist and rolls their hips together filthily. They spring a part when the elevator announces their floor with a dull buzz only to be met with a group of women in business attire staring at them from the other side.  
  
Louis knows Harry's lips are kissed red and he imagines his own are close to the same shade as they both step out of the elevator and clear their throats. One of the women giggles lightly as if she knows what they’ve been up to.  
  
"We're newly married," Harry announces to the group, smiling. "Can't keep our hands to ourselves."  
  
The women trail into the elevator with matching smiles as Louis grabs Harry's hand to take him down the hallway.  
  
"Oh, I remember those days," one woman says with a sigh. "Hottest sex of my life."  
  
Louis's eyebrows shoot up and Harry nods like he understands as the other women murmur in agreement.  
  
"Have fun tonight, boys," another lady says, smiling slowly as the doors close and separate them for good.  
  
"We will," Harry calls back and Louis pinches his ass for the pure joy of it, running away down the hallway when Harry tries to retaliate.

*

  
The honeymoon suite is in the corner and they're both breathless by the time they make it to the door, Louis hurrying to insert the key card into the lock while Harry tickles his sides and tries to kiss his neck. They're both laughing loudly as they trip over themselves into the room before going quiet.  
  
"Oh, sweet god," Harry breathes as the door closes behind them.  
  
"Fuck," Louis echoes as his eyes trace the edges of the room slowly.  
  
There's a full couch in the corner and a television along the wall with large windows opposite, all the curtains drawn to let in the natural light. There's a bed that looks bigger than a king size in the middle of the room with rose petals leading from where they stand to the pillows in a river of red and pink with a bottle of Rosé resting on ice near the center of the pillows. Beyond the bed is a set of sliding doors leading out to the balcony, and two lounge chairs outside.  
  
"This is free?" Harry asks.  
  
"Half off tonight," Louis says, "Free tomorrow. I think it was like two hundred total."  
  
"With the massages and the dinner?"  
  
Louis laughs, "Yes."  
  
"Why weren't we doing this from the beginning?" Harry asks rhetorically, walking further into the room. Probably because we didn't like each other like we do now, Louis thinks but doesn't say out loud.  
  
Louis notices their bags have been set up neatly in the corner, Harry's camera case securely on the desk next to the pile. There's a giant mirror along the wall and one on the ceiling over the bed that makes Louis roll his eyes. Maybe the freshly married like to watch themselves have sex.  
  
"Lou, oh my god," Harry says catching Louis's attention.  
  
Louis has to follow his voice to the bathroom, immediately noticing more rose petals and two bathrobes hanging by the double sinks. Harry is pointing at the Jacuzzi tub in the center though, sunken into the floor with candles around the edges.  
  
"This is ridiculous," Louis laughs shaking his head.  
  
"It reminds me of like, a baby-making room," Harry says.  
  
"Babe, I think that's the whole point," Louis says slowly.  
  
Harry laughs, "Not sex for fun but for making legitimate babies. It's all super romantic so I feel like couples just rent it for a weekend and fuck like rabbits until they're pregnant."  
  
Louis walks away without comment, shaking his head. Harry's light giggle follows after him.  
  
"What do we do now?" Louis asks as they go back into the main room, looking around. Harry doesn't respond so Louis turns around to face him.  
  
He's standing with his hands behind his back and a smile that says he's up to something.  
  
"What?" Louis asks slowly, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"I believe I was promised a blow job in the honeymoon suite," he says amiably.  
  
Louis raises an eyebrow. "I said if you were lucky."  
  
Harry tilts his head, "And if I tell you I feel lucky?"  
  
Louis shakes his head and crosses to Harry in three steps, hands going right for the sides of his neck to hold him as he kisses his lips, hard and hot, biting on his plush lower lip. Harry absolutely melts against him, his cockiness slipping away as his hands fall to Louis's waist and his mouth opens.  
  
He's easy enough to navigate back against the wall, his shoulders hitting with a thud without their lips disconnecting.  
  
"You okay like this?" Louis asks, kissing along Harry's jaw and to his neck. Harry has barely-there stubble rough under Louis's lips and then he curves his neck to the side as Louis kisses the column of his throat.  
  
"H?" He asks again, sucking a mark where the curve of Harry's jaw meets his neck. He keeps one hand on Harry's hip to keep him back against the wall, the other twisting together with Harry's fingers by his shoulder.  
  
"What?" Harry breathes when Louis pulls back. Louis blows over the mark he's just made and smiles at the shivers along Harry's arms.  
  
"I asked if you're okay like this," Louis says, "With your back?" Of course now that he knows about Harry's back, he's not going to be able to forget about it and worry he may be hurting him.  
  
"What about my back?"  
  
Louis lifts Harry's shirt and puts both of his hands on either side of the curve in Harry's waist as they kiss again. Louis runs his nails over the skin, smirking at Harry's silent gasp.  
  
"Are you okay if I blow you while you stand here?" Louis whispers. "Will it hurt your back?" He drops a hand to palm at Harry's crotch and gets a satisfyingly low moan to drop from Harry's lips as his eyes roll back in his head. "Baby?" Louis pulls his hand back and waits for Harry to look at him. "Words?"  
  
Harry blinks a couple times and then shakes his head. "I'm fine, I swear, I promise. It's fine."  
  
Louis grins slowly, "Desperate, eh?" He loves how Harry can turn into a mess when they're like this. He can be commanding when he wants to be but Louis thinks this soft and sweet, borderline desperate Harry, is where he likes him best. He likes making Harry relinquish the control he holds so tight to.  
  
"Have you ever sucked your own cock?" Harry asks with startling clarity. He brings one hand up to Louis's face and draws over his lips with his fingers. "Your mouth should be illegal."  
  
Louis smiles and shakes his head and then kisses Harry again, swallowing his quiet laugh and making him moan instead. He pulls back and kisses the corner of Harry's lips and then does what Harry has been waiting for - and drops to his knees.

*

“I wish I was magic.”

Louis lifts his head from Harry’s bare stomach and stares.

“So, I could get the Rosé from the bed to us,” he says like it’s the logical explanation.

“You could crawl over there and get it,” Louis reasons, laying his head back down. He draws a line down the center of Harry’s ribs, listening to his stomach gurgle under his ear.

He’s sure they look like a mess, Harry naked except for a shirt around his neck, Louis without a shirt and his shorts halfway up his legs, wrapped in each other in the middle of the floor, rose petals scattered haphazardly around them. It’s funny what orgasms in the middle of the day can do to people.

Harry groans lowly like crawling might kill him and Louis laughs lightly, patting the soft skin at the bottom of Harry’s ribs. He traces the outline of the butterfly tattoo for a quiet moment and then starts to lay rose petals over Harry’s chest, slowly and without real intention. He gets more into it than he expects and suddenly he’s straddling Harry as he picks up the different colored rose petals and arranges them over Harry’s skin.

Harry hums quietly to himself as he notices what Louis is doing and then his eyes close and Louis thinks he may fall asleep. Louis just keeps going with his roses, smiling to himself as he dresses Harry in flowers.

“Are you done?” Harry asks when Louis stops moving the flowers around and goes still.

“I guess,” Louis says, running a finger over Harry’s bottom lip and pressing down where its reddest, his own teeth to blame.

“Do I look like a flower prince?”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes. “It looks a bit morbid, actually. Like you’re getting ready to be buried.”

Harry’s eyes go wide and then he frowns. “That’s not what I was hoping for.”

“Sorry,” Louis whispers and then folds closer so the flowers are pressed between their chests and bellies. “I’ll do better next time.”

They kiss purposelessly for a while, hands wandering slowly as they roll around in the roses and press them into the ground. Louis absently hopes the cleaning crew is in charge of picking up the pressed flowers and not them.

“Should we go out?” Harry asks.

Louis freezes like he’s been shocked, his face lifting back from Harry’s. He thought they weren’t talking about it - the kissing and the touching - and now that Harry’s just brought it up he doesn’t know what the fuck to say.

“What?” is how he starts.

“Go out to the bars and stuff we saw driving up here?”

Of course. Louis feels his heartbeat slow and ignores the drop in his stomach that feels like he’s on a miniature roller coaster. He meets Harry’s eyes, waiting to see if there’s something else there but all he sees is clear green. It was an innocent question, he’s the one who skewed it.

“Yeah,” he breathes and then clears his throat when it comes out scratchy. “Yeah.” He rolls off of Harry unceremoniously and takes all of the rose petals with him, trying not to feel disappointment lingering at the bottom of his stomach. He’s not supposed to have expectations, he’s not supposed to care - but everything in his body feels just the opposite.

*

They open their bottle of Rosé while they change their clothes and Louis starts to think he could simply live off of Rosé if anyone asked. He finds a dark pair of jeans he hasn’t worn yet and he cuffs them at the ankle with a white tee and a brown jacket that seems cool enough for the shadier weather of Sedona than the Grand Canyon. Harry wears the black jeans that always get Louis’s attention and a dark pink buttoned shirt that is sheer if you stare hard enough. Of course, Louis stares until he figures that out which only makes Harry look at him with a smug smile.

“What about our free massages and dinner?” Harry asks when they’re halfway out the door.

“Tomorrow,” Louis says like it’s already the plan. “We’ll explore the city tonight, tomorrow we won’t leave the resort limits.”

Harry smiles, clearly pleased.

Outside, the wedding from before is nearly over, the last of the procession slowly leaving the ceremony while the guests stand and cheer. Louis smiles and keeps walking while Harry stands still and watches in awe as though he’s never seen a wedding before. It’s kind of cute.

They take a twirling stone path from the resort out onto the main street. They pass fancy restaurants and boutiques, an ice cream shop and a handmade toy store before coming up on a four-story bar with balconies and fairy lights.

The hostess explains the first two floors are for the restaurant and the second two are for the bar which is suddenly everything Louis and Harry could hope for. They sit at a table outside near the sidewalk and get to people watch while they eat dinner – sharing a BLT sandwich and going half-in on a pizza with white sauce and chicken. When the waiter asks for their drink choices, it’s the first time they pause.

“I can’t do more Rosé,” Harry says, looking at Louis.

“No rum,” Louis says, remembering the coconut drinks in Bricktown.

“And no tequila,” Harry says scrunching his nose. It takes Louis a second to connect the countless margarita pitchers from Holbrook.

The waiter smiles, “So vodka?”

Louis smiles and shrugs. “I guess that’s what we have left.”

“Or whiskey?” Harry asks with pursed lips.

“We are pretty well known for our whiskey,” the waiter offers.

“Whiskey it is,” Louis says with a nod, handing over their menus.

As the evening sunshine settles around them, they end up with sweet tea spiked with whiskey served out of boot shaped glasses. There’s a live band that starts up when their food arrives, an indie kind of group that plays some covers and original stuff just loud enough to fill the quiet spaces without blowing the walls out of the place.

“What’s your life like on campus?” Louis asks when they’ve split their meal onto two plates and started eating.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, eyebrows pulling together as he chews a bite of his sandwich.

“I mean, I know you pretty well, yeah?”

“Better than people I’ve known for a year at least,” Harry says.

“But I don’t know anything about you at school. Do you like morning classes, for example?”

Harry licks his bottom lip as he tries not to smirk. “What do you think?”

Louis nods, “Alright, yeah, I walked myself into that.”

“I don’t take morning classes five days a week,” Harry offers. “I like to take an eight a.m. spin class every other day.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Yikes.”

“I like it,” Harry laughs. “It’s a good way to stay in shape.”

A vision of Harry’s thighs in his jeans pushes forward in Louis’s mind and he smiles, “It’s working, babe.”

“Don’t objectify my body,” Harry says haughtily, pretending to be offended.

“You like it,” Louis says with a knowing smile. It makes Harry blush. “What else?” Louis asks, cutting the edge of his pizza.

“I don’t know,” Harry says, “This is kind of a hard question, you know.”

Louis tilts his head, “Is it?” He tries to think if he could explain his days to Harry and isn’t sure he could. “What about like, a Saturday. What do you do?”

Harry narrows his eyes, “Are you writing a book or what?”

“I’m curious,” Louis says, laughing. “I know you as you exist on an end of summer road trip, maybe I want to know more.”

Harry’s face seems to soften at that but maybe Louis is imagining it. “On a Saturday, I usually sleep in.”

Louis nods, “Thank god.”

“Until eight-thirty,” Harry laughs as Louis cringes. “Then I don’t know, really. I’ll go on a jog sometimes or go get coffee and a scone at Cavana. If I have a test the next week, I’ll spend like, the whole day studying or I’ll go to a new gallery opening, an art show if there is one. Sometimes I take my camera and just go wander into the hills or go on a hike. Now that I have my car I might drive to the ocean more.” He shrugs and closes his eyes, thinking. “Oh, I also do nothing on Saturdays when I’m feeling lazy. I binge Netflix shows and order Chinese, refuse to shower or get off the couch.”

Louis laughs along with Harry, using his straw to stir his drink. “That’s my favorite Saturday.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, “Not so different from anyone else, I guess. Sorry if you were expecting something else. I’m kind of boring.”

“It’s not boring,” Louis says quickly, maybe too quickly. “I don’t think it’s boring,” he says which might only make it worse. Louis doesn’t know how to explain that he wants to know the big things about Harry and all the little ones. He wants to know the boring ones, too – the ones no one else has ever bothered to know.

Harry’s lips twitch like he’s going to say something but he stays quiet. “Do you think your life will change now that you’re in law school?” Harry asks, swallowing a sip of his drink. “No more lazy Saturdays?”

“I’ll always make time for lazy Saturdays,” Louis points out. “But, yeah, I think it will be different.”

“Nervous?”

“A bit, yeah,” Louis says nodding. He hadn’t wanted to think about it much over the summer but he is nervous. “All of my friends that I graduated with aren’t coming back,” he says. “I’ll be in an apartment on my own for the first time.” He swallows and looks up at Harry, “It’ll be really different, I think. I’ll be more alone.”

“Nope,” Harry says, perhaps sensing the change of mood. “You’ll have me, you know.”

“Will I?” Louis says, keeping his voice even. Laying it all out there, there’s nothing he wants more than to have Harry.

“Of course,” Harry says with a smile. “You can’t just un-know me as soon as we get to LA.”

Louis thinks it would be easier if he could but he smiles and nods. “That’s true. So, I’ll have you.”

“You’ll have me,” Harry says, oddly serious.

 _But not like this_ , echoes quietly in Louis’s mind. He takes a longer sip of sweet tea to try and make himself forget.

 

*

 

They act like they’re going to explore the rest of what the city has to offer but reality finds Louis and Harry on the third floor of where they’d eaten dinner with a whiskey sour in their hands. They stand out on the edge of the balcony, leaning up against the wooden perimeter as they look over the street below. The fairy lights around them are a sweet touch as night falls slowly, the sun setting somewhere behind them where they can’t see.

“So,” Louis says, “I thought of something earlier today. Or, I remembered something.”

Harry rubs his lips together and smirks. “What?”

“Our first day, maybe the second, you let it slip we had a class together.”

Harry’s smirk dims slightly as he swallows. “Marine Biology.”

“With the whale sperm, yeah,” Louis says.

“What did you remember about it?”

“Nothing really,” Louis says. He scrunches his lips and then grins, “Just that you said you thought I was cute.”

Harry blushes and looks away, trying to hide his face. Louis grins. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s cute,” Louis says, shaking his head.

“Do you want to know the truth?” Harry says, his cheeks fading slowly.

“If you tell me you take it back, I’ll know you’re lying,” Louis says with a glint in his eye.

“I don’t take it back,” Harry says rolling his eyes. “Not that your ego needs more petting.”

“I always need more petting,” Louis says saucily before shaking his head. “That was a lot less creepy in my head.”

Harry smiles and takes a sip from his drink, smacking his lips. “When we had that class, I had just broken up with Matt.”

Louis blinks in surprise, the balcony going quieter around them. He hadn’t pieced that part of the story together before.

“I was so heartbroken,” Harry says, shaking his head. “And so sad. I think that’s the best way to describe it sometimes. I was sad.”

Louis’s heart folds on the edge and he wants to reach out for Harry and hold him. After the way they’ve tied themselves together the past two weeks, he feels a sense of obligation to not let anyone ever make him sad again. He knows it’s a overstated and dramatic request; he’s aware.

“Anyway,” Harry waves his hand, “This isn’t about him. He’s a jerk.”

“Right,” Louis says with a nod. “This about me. The angel.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “Really? You want to go there.”

Louis nods and smiles, “I do.”

Harry flutters his eyes as he takes deep breath. “Alright, whatever. Back to the story. It was March and I was a freshman, I was starting to fail my classes because I was so in love with my boyfriend I didn’t think they mattered. Only to find I was on a thin line to be kicked out of the university and my boyfriend didn’t love me back.” He waves his hand around, “Minor details.”

“Right,” Louis says with a nod. He loves how Harry is lessening all of his sadness to an anecdote in a story. It doesn’t make it any less real but Louis knows it means it’s not lingering anymore. It’s harder to joke about something so carelessly when it still runs an undercurrent of the present.

“Then this guy walked into my Marine Biology class. He was wearing a grey sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and he sat right next to me. He took the hood off and I was almost like, star struck I think. I thought he was so pretty and I wanted to say something but I didn’t have anything to say. I was too shy to even say, “Hello.”  But when class started he asked me for a pen with this raspy voice and I was literally shaking as I gave him my pencil.”

“You gave him the pencil you were using?” Louis asks, not quite following. “Did you have another one?”

Harry smirks, “I used a purple pen for the rest of class.”

Louis’s face pulls tight. “What an ass.”

Harry’s laugh sounds like a hiccup. “It was you, Lou.”

Louis actually feels the shock of Harry’s words starting at the top of his head and filtering down slowly like a waterfall as he shakes his head. “No way.”

“It was,” Harry says, barely hiding his smile at how flustered Louis is. “I watched you write Louis Tomlinson on your paper.”

Louis’s mouth opens as he tries to think back to that class. It’s such a blur he can hardly picture where he used to sit. It was an early class and he was usually hungover, quite honestly. He’d just turned twenty-one a few months before that term and the bar scene seemed to call his name every night. Marine Biology was a general education course he’d forgotten to take and so he did the bare minimum to pass with a ‘B’. Nowhere in there does he remember borrowing pencils or talking to pretty boys – though neither is out of character for him.

“I don’t remember,” Louis says. “I wish I did. God, I wish I did.”

“I wasn’t very memorable as a freshman,” Harry says. “I was a mess actually.”

“No,” Louis says, “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

Harry smiles with his lips pressed tight, “Yeah, well, after that I tried to sit by you the next day but you weren’t there.”

“Probably hungover,” Louis says, wincing.

Harry bites his lip and then smiles. “After that, I got a call from my mom saying she would make me come home and send me to community college in Chicago if I didn’t get my shit together.”

Louis pushes his lips out, “I imagine that changed some things.”

“Yes,” Harry says with a nod. “I started sitting in the front of class, showing up early.”

“Being the Harry I know,” Louis adds.

Harry smiles, “Yeah. Or, starting to be him.”

“That’s why you thought I was annoying after you thought I was cute? You turned into a star pupil and I wasn’t?”

“No,” Harry rolls his eyes. “You were fine. You just never noticed me and I wanted you to so badly. I was a bit bitter.”

Louis shakes his head, still in disbelief Harry has been sitting on this secret for their whole trip. “Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Harry says. He pokes the ice in his drink and circles the straw. “There was something about you on that first day. Maybe it was lust but for the first time since I had been overwhelmed with sadness, I felt like there was a chance for something better. How stupid is that?” Harry snorts, “I didn’t even know you.”

What the fuck? There are alarms and lights in Louis’s head and he feels like he’s barely hanging on as the world spins beneath him. Harry liked him, genuinely liked him, and he didn’t even know. He doesn’t even want to chance what that would have meant if he had noticed Harry back. If something had actually happened between them. He smiles over the thought without sharing it with Harry. It feels like fate stepped in to keep them away until now – and never has Louis believed in fate before.

“That’s not stupid,” Louis says, coming back to the moment. “I’m flattered actually.”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “I’d kind of forgotten about it until Niall called me and asked if you could ride to LA with me. I probably sounded like I was choking over the phone.”

Louis smiles remembering Niall’s faked enthusiasm about Harry agreeing to let him tag along. “I can only imagine.” He laughs again just trying to imagine Harry’s face when he heard Louis’s name again for the first time since Marine Biology. “It wouldn’t have worked out, you know,” Louis says. “Even if I had noticed you. I would have been a terrible boyfriend considering I didn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend.”

Harry nods and half smiles, “Haven’t you been listening? I would have been a fucking mess. I needed to work on myself before I could think about offering another piece of myself to someone.”

“I needed to grow up,” Louis says with a scrunched nose.

“Anyway, that’s my story,” Harry says, smiling. “Impressive, yeah?”

“Very,” Louis says, shaking his head. “I can’t even believe it.” It feels a bit like a dream even though it’s definitely not. It’s funny to think of all the ways he and Harry have orbited and never synced up until they were thrown in a car with locked doors and taken to the middle of nowhere. Louis finishes his drink and shakes his head, still smiling.

“I’m going to find the bathroom,” he says, setting his glass on the table. “And then buy another drink. You want?”

Harry nods, taking a drink from his glass. “Another one of these, please.”

“Be back,” Louis says, “Don’t run away.”

Harry laughs, “I’ve spilled my secrets already. I have nothing left.”

Louis grins and twirls away, butterflies erupting in his stomach. Once upon a time, Harry liked him first. Once upon a time, he was the one Harry wanted.

*

Louis is gone longer than he intends. He definitely gets lost finding the bathroom and then there’s a big mob at the bar as he tries to order drinks though he doesn’t mind the wait, trying to bite down on his smile like a lunatic.

All he can think about is fate – the way he and Harry have been kept apart by tiny twists and turns, all while existing mere blocks, and sometimes feet, away from each other. Now they’ve crashed together and even when they tried to keep their space, they haven’t been able to.

Fuck, Louis is falling face first for Harry and he hasn’t been able to stop that since it first started. He knows Harry is hesitant, he knows Harry has been burned worse than Louis ever was but – maybe it’s time to take the chance. The thought slips away as the bartender catches his eye, “What do you want, love?” she asks, already pulling a glass from the rack under the bar.

“Two whiskey sours,” Louis calls over the din of noise, getting out his credit card in the process.

He feels like there’s champagne in his stomach and sparklers under his feet as he turns to find Harry. Maybe he’ll tell Harry the things he’s been thinking or maybe he’ll wait for Harry to say something first. Surely, he feels the same way. The push and pull between them, the magnetics they can’t ignore. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When he turns away from the bar to go back to Harry, he stops cold. Harry is still where he left him but someone else has taken Louis’s place. It’s another guy and Louis wouldn’t feel quite so vulnerable if it wasn’t for the new drink in Harry’s hand, or the way he laughs when the guy says something. Louis swallows as he watches them across the bar, his hands tight around the glasses he’s holding. He knows the feeling is jealously, has felt it curl around his ribs like this but never over someone who isn’t actually his. Someone who doesn’t feel the same way about him.

Louis feels the last bit like someone has dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt and he inhales slowly, steadily. For a moment, he’d thought he detected something between him and Harry, something cosmic instead of ordinary but the way Harry smiles at the stranger across from him makes Louis feel like he doesn’t know anything at all.

He takes his sweet time crossing the bar, then. He lets his eyes wander around and goes to admire one of the pieces of art on the far wall before he realizes the only person he wants to show is Harry because of-fucking-course it is. Eventually, he resigns himself to going back to Harry. He doesn’t want to sulk; worse, he doesn’t want Harry to catch him sulking.

As if he can feel his presence, Harry looks up as Louis comes out onto the balcony. Louis thinks his eyes light up but he’s also kind of biased. Part of him wants to walk up and kiss the daylights out of Harry, make out with him until the other guy goes away. Part of him wants to act indifferent. Hell, his whole body wishes he could _be_ indifferent toward Harry. It would make everything a lot easier.

“Hi,” Louis says, when he’s close enough. The other guy follows Harry’s gaze to Louis and his smile dims though he doesn’t move away. “Sorry I took so long,” he says, setting the drink next to Harry. “Looks like you made out okay without me.”

Harry glances at the other guy and then to Louis, shrugs. “This is Tom. He bought me a Sex on the Beach.”

Louis’s stomach tightens and his eyes go dark. He can’t tell if Harry remembers their conversation, about the drink he’d by a guy if he wanted to hook up or if he’s really enjoying the fruity drink. Louis sets his eyes on Tom instead. Tom is already smiling at him, something a little sinister like he thinks Harry is going home with him. As if.

“I’m Louis,” he says, offering his left hand. “Tim is it?”

“Tom,” he corrects, taking Louis’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Louis feels a brush of metal on his finger and when he pulls his hand back sees the ring on his finger. Harry’s ring on his finger – Harry’s fake wedding ring. He actually smiles at the realization, a laugh slipping from his lips as he realizes Harry is still wearing the ring on his left ring finger too. He has so many on, it’s hard to tell where they all land but Louis only has one. It’s pretty obvious what it means. If it wasn’t a lie, of course.

“That’s a Sex on the Beach?” He asks, confidence ballooning behind his ribs.

Tom actually smirks, “It’s a fan favorite.”

“Is it?” Louis smiles and glances at Harry. Harry, for his part, has the straw between his teeth as he sucks steadily, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Louis and Tom.

“Tell me, Tom,” Louis says, trying so hard not to smile it almost hurts, “Do you buy a lot of married men erotic drinks?”

Harry actually chokes on his drink, spluttering and then coughing as Tom looks pointedly between them – or, their hands as it is.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Louis puts his left hand on Harry’s chest and taps lightly. His voice is sticky sweet even if the concern is genuine as Harry catches his breath again.

“I didn’t realize,” Tom says, shaking his head. “I just thought you were hot, man.” He looks to Harry, “Nice body.”

It makes Louis see red as Harry drapes a hand around his hips like he can sense it. “We’re on our honeymoon, asshole,” he spits at Tom. He curls his lip, “Fuck off.”

Tom backs away like a cornered cat and Harry bursts out laughing as Louis stares after him  until he disappaers.

“I forgot about the rings,” Harry says, giggling. He tries to stop and can’t, busting up all over again.

Louis smiles, attention flagging from Tom and coming back to Harry. “Yeah, well, I have to protect what’s mine,” he says. “Even if it’s a fake marriage, it got us a honeymoon suite.”

Harry laughs and sets his drink on the table next to them, next to the whiskey sour Louis bought him. “I think it was something else,” Harry says, turning to face Louis. “I think you were jealous.”

Louis shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe.”

Harry nudges his face closer to Louis’s until their lips catch in a slow kiss. “I think that’s really fucking hot,” Harry whispers.

Louis reaches out for the table and puts his glass down, his hands going to Harry’s hips where they belong. “Oh, do you?” He says back. “A little turned on right now?”

Harry wiggles his eyebrows and Louis kisses him, silences whatever else he’s planning to say. Louis stays pressed against the balcony railing as Harry kisses him back, their lips sweet and slick with alcohol as they move together. Louis scratches his nails lightly over Harry’s back and then down to the curve of his ass. He slips his hands in Harry’s back pockets and squeezes, rolling Harry’s hips forward. Harry stutters a breath against Louis’s mouth and then Louis pulls away with one more quick kiss. He leaves the Sex on the Beach on the table and hands Harry his whiskey sour with a sweet smile.

“Fuck,” Harry breathes, his cheeks and neck already red.

Louis takes a sip of his drink and licks his lips. He likes getting Harry worked up like this but he knows he has to be careful too – some of the ways Harry looks and sounds, only belong to him and he doesn’t particularly want to share.

They don’t last too much longer at the bar before they want to head back to the hotel, slightly tipsy and warm as they wander the streets. Louis holds Harry’s hand because he wants to. Tonight has him in a whirlwind of emotions but holding Harry seems like the steady constant he needs.

“You know what we should do,” Harry says as the approach the elevator in the lobby.

“What should we do?” Louis asks over a yawn.

“We should take a bath.”

Louis kind of wants to say no, kind of just wants to go to bed. But when he sees Harry’s big stupid smile and shining eyes, he just says, “We should.”

*

“Do not.” Louis says with his pants unbuttoned, one finger pointing at Harry.

Harry is down to his boxers already, soft around the edges from the hazy heat of the full tub. He has a fist full of rose petals in either hand and a sheepish smile as he opens his hands and lets them all flutter into the bath water.

“Oops,” he says, smiling over his words.

Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to taking off of his jeans. Harry has already put enough bath gel into the water to make it foamy and now there are red and pink dots all over the top of the bubbles from the roses. It looks like a photoshoot, not relaxation after a night out.

Louis pauses to stare as Harry shimmies out of his boxers and the climbs into the bath with his giraffe legs and settle into the water. He sighs as the water envelopes his shoulders, his eyes closing.

Louis undresses quickly and then steps into the tub on the opposite side; he smirks when he sees Harry watching. Slowly, he sits and then scoots against the back wall, sinking into the heat.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes, his head tipping back against the porcelain edge. Their legs overlap in the middle but the tub is wide enough they don’t touch more than a gentle brush every once in a while.

“I wish I had a bath tub in my apartment,” Harry says. “I’d never leave.”

“Like a mermaid?”

“Like a mermaid,” Harry says softly, his eyes closing again.

Louis feels warm and bubbly, pleasantly tipsy and sleepy. Harry doesn’t seem inclined to talk and Louis doesn’t mind the quiet as it seeps over them.

He finds his mind wandering to Harry on campus again, where he always seems to get stuck. His current fixation is on Harry’s apartment – whether he has roommates or lives alone. He tries to picture what it might look like and gets stuck on Harry’s Instagram aesthetic of all things. He imagines clean lines and order, a lot of books and records in the shelves. Louis thinks there might be a fireplace or maybe a big basket of cozy blankets. A lot of sunlight and notebooks scattered on the kitchen table. He wonders if Harry has a tea kettle and if he eats ice cream out of the container. He swallows and opens his eyes to ask but Harry is softly snoring with his head lolled to the side, his chest rising and falling slowly.

“Are you asleep, babe?” Louis asks into the quiet, his own voice sleepy. Harry’s lack of response is answer enough.

Louis gets out of the bath and finds a pair of towels, drying himself off thoroughly and then putting on one of the robes he spotted hanging by the tub earlier. It’s fluffy and absurd but he smiles as he ties it around his waist. The one left on the hook is pink and though Louis hates heteronormativity, he thinks Harry may be pleased with the color.

Louis squats by Harry’s head and runs his fingers back through his hair slowly, drawing them in circles. He does it again as Harry’s eyes begin to flutter. He kisses Harry’s pink lips softly, not able to stop himself as Harry opens his eyes.

“Ready for bed, darling?”

Harry closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “Sleeping here, Lou. I’m a mermaid.”

Louis laughs and kisses Harry’s forehead quickly. “I forgot.”

Harry is slow to finally stand up out of the bath though he smiles when Louis holds open a towel for him to wrap up in. “You’re sweet to me,” he says as he wraps it around himself. He kisses Louis deeply in the haze of heat, pressing in close with his tongue and then drawing back.

Louis undoes the plug in the bath to let the water out, the roses pooling sadly around the drain. Hopefully the cleaning crew doesn’t hate them in the morning.

When he glances over, Harry has the pink bathrobe on but he hasn’t tied it so it hangs open. Louis licks his bottom lip as he stares, a bit infatuated by the way Harry’s ink looks when he can see it all at once, the way his milky skin makes it stand out.

“Like what you see?” Harry asks and Louis rolls his eyes.

“I’m too tired to do anything about it,” Louis says with a shrug. Harry walks toward him with swaying hips and pouty lips while Louis laughs, covering his eyes. “Come to bed, little sex kitten.” Harry stops walking and his Blue Steel face melts into a giggle.

They shed the robes as they get in bed, the sheets cool against their skin, smooth like silk. It’s the biggest bed they’ve been in by far but they still crowd in the middle, Harry’s head on Louis’s chest, Louis’s fingers drawing aimless circles on his back as they fall asleep.

*

 


	7. Day 13 & 14

[DAY THIRTEEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166132542279/day-thirteen-heaven-oasis-resort-spa-sedona) ([x)](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166155540209/day-thirteen-heaven-oasis-resort-spa-sedona)

Sedona, Arizona

 

The first thing Louis feels is fire.

The heat circles around in his stomach and then pulls up toward his ribs before simmering. The second time it happens he opens his eyes abruptly,

The room is bright in the morning light of sleeping in but Louis doesn’t focus on that; instead, he sees Harry between his legs, his hands holding on Louis’s hips, his pretty pink lips around Louis’s cock.

“Oh my fucking god,” Louis rasps as his head falls back against the pillow. The fire makes sense now as it rises again when Harry takes him deeper into his mouth and then pulls off to swirl his tongue over the tip.

“Baby,” Louis breathes as he goes up on his elbows for a better view. He hasn’t gotten tired of seeing Harry going down on him, his hollowed cheeks and obscene mouth whenever he sticks his tongue out.

His hair is messy from sleep and dried bathwater, his cheek even has a crease from the pillow like he hasn’t been awake that long. The thought of him waking up and immediately crawling between Louis’s legs to blow him has Louis falling back against the bed again. He reaches out for Harry’s hair, running his fingers through the tangles as Harry works him over with his mouth.

“You’re so good at this,” Louis whispers, almost to himself. Harry hears anyway and preens under the attention, moaning lowly. Louis raises an eyebrow, “You like compliments?” Somehow Harry manages to roll his eyes with his mouth wrapped around Louis’s cock but Louis thinks he’s pegged him anyway.

“We’ll discuss later,” Louis says with the breath punched out of him as Harry doubles down his effort and adds his hand into the mix.

It starts in Louis’s toes, curling against his feet and then it zips up his spine to his stomach, all of the fire collecting in a ball that shivers against the bottom of his ribs.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Louis chants, his back arching as he tugs on Harry’s hair. Harry hums around his cock and that’s all it takes for him to orgasm, body convulsing as his eyes roll back in his head, his hips pressing up to Harry’s mouth.

He’s gasping for air by the time he comes back to himself, his heart pounding when he opens his eyes. Harry’s face fills his vision having kissed his way up his stomach. He has a smug smirk on his face and Louis has to pull him down for a kiss. “That’s a nice way to wake up,” Louis murmurs against his lips.

“Thought it might be,” Harry says, kissing him two times quick and pulling back. “Considering you slept naked, it seemed like the best use of my time.”

Louis laughs and tugs Harry down for another kiss. His hands trail over Harry’s back down to the lowest curve of his waist. “Oh look, you did too.” He presses down gently until Harry falls into him, his hips pressing against Louis.

“Thought you might be hard,” Louis whispers as Harry’s cock drags in the crease of his thigh. He pulls his hips down again and Harry gasps at the friction. “Does sucking me off always get you this hot?” Louis’s voice is conversational even as Harry starts to rub off on his leg, tiny gasps and his teeth digging into his lip. “Guess so,” Louis mutters, using his hands to help Harry along.

He lets his right hand smooth lower, over the curve of Harry’s ass and to his thigh where he dives between Harry’s legs and then back up. Harry watches him with heavy eyes as he keeps his hips moving, his lips parted. Louis doesn’t break eye contact as he runs his fingers up Harry’s crack, pressing in softly with his fingers where he knows Harry wants him most. It’s warm and dry so Louis doesn’t try anything tricky, just presses his fingers down gently and smiles when Harry breaks into pieces, his mouth opening in a silent yell as his eyes clench shut and he shoots hot and wet all over Louis’s stomach and his own.

Louis smirks as he runs his hand up Harry’s back scratching softly, “There we go,” he whispers. Harry falls against him in a warm heap and Louis laughs, kissing any part of Harry’s face he can and then humming in content.

Breakfast is ordered from the room service menu - waffles with strawberries, a carafe of orange juice and a bottle of champagne, a plate of bacon. They haven't gotten out of bed when the bell to the room rings and they both stare at each other before Harry sighs and gets out of bed to answer.  
  
For a moment, Louis thinks he's going to answer naked before he grabs up his pink robe from the night before and puts it on. "Did you remember to tie it?" Louis calls after him, laughing when Harry stops to do just that.  
  
There's slight murmurs at the door and then it latches closed. Louis watches the cart of food come around the corner followed by Harry who has the robe hanging off his shoulder and his lips pouted like a porn star as he comes into view fully. He breaks into a smile before Louis does but Louis laughs louder, kicking his feet against the bed. Harry comes over and kisses him - it's too quick for Louis's liking so he grabs Harry by the lapels of his robe and kisses him harder, nearly topples him back into bed in the process.  
  
"Let's eat on the balcony," Harry says as he pulls back with a grin. "It's a beautiful day."  
  
It's absolutely not their honeymoon but as Louis gets up to find his own robe, it kind of feels like it could be.

*

  
They eat on the balcony with the resort's brochure flattened out between them as they try to plan their day.  
  
"Do we have to act married all day?" Harry asks, licking a bit of whip cream off his lip.  
  
"Debatable," Louis says. "If we see the guy who gave us the free room, definitely."  
  
"Greg," Harry supplies.  
  
"Yes, Greg." Louis nods, "Other than that, no one really knows."  
  
Harry holds up his hand, "We have the rings."  
  
"We do," Louis says. "But we could always pretend to be the newlyweds already in a fight who make it awkward for everyone else."  
  
Harry actually cackles as he refills his mimosa. "I think we should play to our strengths, which is acting married."  
  
Louis isn't sure what to say to that so he just agrees. It's easier than unpacking what Harry has just said.

*

They spend the morning on a hike organized by the resort though it's less like an organized field trip and more like supervised wilderness exploration. The group heads into the forest together and then breaks off into their own groups on the path. Harry has his camera so they hang toward the back, not wanting to impede everyone else.

Louis doesn't miss the handful of times people look back at them, smiling sweetly or saying a comment to whoever they’re with. Louis feels self-conscious about what their seeing even as he smiles back. He wonders if they can tell they aren't really married. He wonders if they can tell he's starting to fall in love. He wonders if they can tell Harry is not.  
  
The path opens out to a wider meadow looking over the valley complete with wild flowers and pollen that seems to make everyone around them sneeze. Louis thought Arizona was too dry for allergies but Sedona is proving him wrong.  
  
There are bees, too and Louis keeps a steady watch on them to make sure they don't get too close to Harry. He swats one away while Harry is in the middle of a story and Harry smiles slowly. "What was that?"  
  
"A bee," Louis says. "I don't want your throat swelling shut, you know."  
  
Harry is quiet and then he starts laughing, maybe remembering the way their trip started. "We've come a long way, huh?" He says, his smile just for Louis.  
  
"Both literally and figuratively," Louis says to be a smartass.  
  
Harry rolls his eyes and then leans into kiss Louis. It's just a brush of lips before they head further into the trail but it wakes up the butterflies in Louis's stomach again. With each passing moment, each kiss, he's not sure how he's going to make it out of this road trip with his heart fully intact.

*

 

  
"You can change into robes in the room to your left and then we'll meet you on the patio," Darlene the receptionist says as she hands Louis and Harry two white robes after their hike. They headed straight for the wellness center once they finished, bodies stiff and skin sticky. "Think about what areas you'd like us to focus on and we can discuss before we begin."

"Is it a naked massage?" Harry whispers once they're in the secluded room.  
  
"It can be," Louis says, pulling off his shirt.  
  
Luckily there's a shower to get off all of their grossness from the hike before they get all rubbed up with oil and salt scrubs. Louis is quite looking forward to the entire process. He turns on the shower and tests the water before stepping out of his shoes and pulling off his socks. He's putting them in the locker when he realizes Harry is still standing in the middle of the room.  
  
"You can wear your boxers, babe," he says, pushing off his shorts.  
  
"What if I get hard?"  
  
Louis blinks and swallows. "From them touching you?"  
  
"No," Harry squishes his lips together. "Just like, being around you does weird things to my body. I just stared at your ass for two hours in running shorts."  
  
Louis's laughter echoes around the small room until he covers his mouth with his hand. "Sorry," he says. "You're ridiculous. I'm pretty sure you can control your boner for sixty minutes."  
  
Harry sighs like it will be the hardest thing he's ever done as he pulls off his own sweaty shirt.  
  
"I can get you off in the shower before we go out there," Louis says as he steps out of his boxers. He goes into the shower and winks when he notices Harry looking at his ass again.  
  
"No," Harry says forcefully. "We are not defacing their shower."  
  
"Defacing," Louis laughs as he lets the warm water rush over him.  
  
"Stop making fun of me," Harry whines, pulling off his shorts and kicking off his shoes simultaneously. He trips and bumps the wall which only makes Louis laugh harder.  
  
"Why?" Louis asks, sticking his head out of the shower. "Does it make you hard?"  
  
Harry shakes his head as he finishes undressing. "I hate being fake married to you."  
  
"That is false," Louis says, stepping out of the shower and reaching for a towel to dry off. He could stay under the warm water for hours but he's quite looking forward to someone manhandling his muscles into submission. He leaves the water on for Harry. "You love it."  
  
Harry rolls his eyes as he passes by and Louis laughs. He pinches Harry's ass and says, "See you out there, sweet cheeks," as Harry disappears into the shower.  
  
The honeymoon massages take place on a private patio with just two massage tables and a curving creek just a few feet away. Louis smiles as he takes his place on the table, adjusting the sheet over him and waiting for Harry and the masseuses to arrive. He lays on his stomach with the sheet low over his ass, choosing to go naked because he's getting a free massage and it feels celebratory.  
  
"This is so fucking lovely," Harry whispers to announce his presence.  
  
Louis turns his head and smiles at him, "I know. Perfect honeymoon, yeah?"  
  
Harry smirks, "Yeah." He kisses the side of Louis's forehead before losing his robe and climbing on the table. He's gloriously naked, Louis notes with glee.  
  
"Stopped worrying about getting hard?" Louis asks, his lips twitching.  
  
"I'll just stay on my stomach," Harry says, adjusting the sheet. "No one has to know."  
  
"Dirty boy," Louis whispers just as two masseuses enter through a side door, smiling at them both.

*

They eat cheese and apples on the patio after their massages both agreeing they feel like puddles of goo instead of humans.  
  
"I'm just going to start pretending to be a newlywed wherever I go," Harry says after glancing around briefly. "This is amazing."  
  
"You don't have to be a newlywed to get a massage, H," Louis points out.  
  
"A free massage?" Harry raises his eyebrows, "That's not easy to come by, you know."  
  
"You know what?" Louis takes a bite of his apple, "My mom always got free shit after she had a baby, too. Or they would give the older kids free stuff to make us leave her alone. I remember getting a lot of ice cream cones when the girls were little."  
  
"Ah," Harry hums, "So I should start saying I've just had a baby?" He grins when Louis narrows his eyes at him.  
  
Darlene from earlier steps out onto the porch and smiles slowly. "So, you're the newlyweds I keep hearing about. I didn’t realize when you first came in."  
  
Louis's bite of apple goes down the wrong part of his throat and he coughs to clear it while Harry says, "That's us."  
  
"What have you heard?" Louis asks once his breathing way is clear. He tries his best not to sound paranoid.  
  
"All good things," she says with a little smirk.  
  
Louis and Harry both glance at each other questioningly.  
  
"I actually came out here to ask if you'd like pedicures," she says. "We had a couple of spots open up and I figured everyone's favorite newlyweds might be interested?"  
  
"I don't think so -" Louis starts as Harry says, "That would be lovely," at the same time.  
  
"Really, babe?" Louis asks, glancing at Harry. "You want a pedicure?"  
  
"I think it sounds nice," Harry says, smiling like he knows Louis isn't going to tell him no in front of Darlene.  
  
"Sounds like we're getting pedicures," Louis says turning back with a tight smile.  
  
"You're learning quickly," Darlene says and it takes a moment after she's disappeared for him to realize she's referencing his compliance with Harry's request. His eye roll is a bit delayed but Harry catches it with a laugh.

*

Louis's feet are pedicure virgins and don't take to their first time very easily. He laughs when his feet are touched and squeals a bit when the technician use something that looks like a potato peeler. Harry takes his pedicure in stride, using the massage chair and closing his eyes as his feet are worked on.  
  
"Do you do this a lot?" Louis asks when Harry finally looks over at him.  
  
"Sometimes," Harry says. "I like having my feet taken care of. Not in a weird way," he says when Louis wriggles his eyebrows.  
  
"Is this part of your Saturday routine that you didn't tell me about?"  
  
Harry laughs. "No, I like to go on weeknights actually. After a long lecture or after a test. It's not very expensive and it's relaxing. I like to pamper myself on a budget, you know." It's quiet for a beat before he adds, "You should come sometime."  
  
Louis keeps his breathing steady as he says, "I'd like that." He doesn't know if he should be cutting ties to Harry when he gets back or holding him at arm’s length but he doesn't want to take the time to debate it. He just does what feels right and tying his future plans to Harry even in the vaguest sense feels the best to him.  
  
Louis doesn't do a color on his nails and Harry does such a light pink it still looks natural with a little extra sheen to the topcoat. Louis kind of likes it.  
  
They march back up to their room with water bottles and complimentary snacks from the front desk, somehow already exhausted from their day.  
  
"We should nap," Harry says when they let themselves in and Louis can't help but agree. They get on the bed as they are, Louis wrapping around Harry and letting his hand fall to Harry's stomach where it always is when they lay like this.  
  
"Louis," Harry whispers as they start to drift.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm really happy right now," he says. "Very happy."  
  
Butterflies and fireworks ignite in Louis's stomach and he indulges rather than confuse himself with questions.  "So am I," he says quietly. He kisses Harry's shoulder. "So am I."

*

“I feel important.”

Louis laughs as he adjusts his chair closer to the table, the host disappearing back inside. When Louis had given his name a few moments earlier, the host had nodded wisely and then led them to the back of the restaurant and out to a private balcony, big enough to hold a couple of tables but only having one. The balcony overlooks a grove of trees seeming to go on forever under the darkness of the early evening. Louis had been staring out over them as the host pulled Harry’s chair out for him and then cleared his throat to do the same for Louis.

“I can’t remember the last time someone pulled a chair out for me,” Louis says lowly.

“Maybe they think we’re royalty.”

Louis nods, “Yeah, maybe,” before rolling his eyes. “As long as they don’t ask for a proof of marriage certificate, we’re golden.”

“As if you wouldn’t find a way out of that one,” Harry says conspiratorially.

“Well, they do take four to six weeks after the ceremony to process, technically,” Louis says with a shrug. “So, they could ask, I guess.”

“See?” Harry picks up his menu and smiles, “You can get out of anything.”

They’d woken up from their nap in a state of disarray and slight confusion at how long they’d been asleep. Harry said it felt like a month, at least. Then they pulled on jeans and nicer looking shirts before trooping out into the hallway. Louis had laughed far too loudly when he pointed out Harry’s shirt was inside out.  “And you buttoned it like that,” Louis said, shaking his head. “How?”

“What wine should we get?” Harry asks now, pulling Louis back. His dark blue shirt looked lovely inside out but now Louis can see the silver stitching in the candlelight and he thinks it looks even better.

“What one do you want?” Louis asks, his chin resting on his palm as he smiles. God, he thinks, Harry is just so lovely. The way he looks at the wine menu with his eyebrows pulled together, his bottom lip pushed out like he can’t quite decide what to choose. Louis could watch him for ages and never get bored. For once the thought doesn’t ignite his lungs with acid that makes him recoil.

“Are you listening to me?”

Louis blinks and hears the faintest echo of Harry saying something. “No,” he says.

Harry swallows, “What’s going on? You’re being weird.”

Louis thinks he sounds almost nervous - as if he has a reason to be. “I was admiring you,” Louis says, truthfully. “How lovely you are.”

Harry balks and clears his throat. “Oh, well. By all means, continue.” He smiles and looks back at the menu before giggling and looking back up. “But also tell me what wine to order because they all look the same to me.”

*

They end up with a light Pinot Noir they pick at random that ends up pairing nicely with the lobster they order. Not that Louis has any intimate knowledge of what a good pairing should be but the waiter tells them so. He also tells them they should order the lobster and they exchange one simple look and do just that.

“If it’s shit, we just go order macaroni and cheese from room service because it’s all free,” Harry whispers excitedly.

“If that happens, we’re not ordering mac and cheese,” Louis says leaning back in his chair. “I’m maxed on my orange sauce intake for at least a month.”

Harry’s lips twitch but he doesn’t fight Louis. “What’s your favorite snack to make at like, midnight on a Wednesday?”

Louis lifts his wine and hums, readjusting in his seat. He loves when they do this - ask questions so far out of left field they’re almost comical. “What am I doing on this Wednesday at midnight?”

“Studying,” Harry says. “Or working on a project. Something not fun.”

Louis sighs and closes his eyes, thinking. “Am I making it myself? Or is someone cooking?”

Harry laughs lightly; he probably didn’t expect Louis to drag it on. “Someone else can make it,” he allows.

“Who is the someone else? Last year that would have probably been my roommate, Liam, this year I’m living alone so -”

“Oh my god,” Harry cuts him off. “It’s me. I’m there, making you a snack at midnight on a Wednesday.”

Louis nods then smirks. “What are you wearing?”

“Louis,” Harry tries to be serious even though he starts smiling halfway through Louis’s name.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m setting the scene.” Louis licks his bottom lip. “Are we at my place or yours?”

“You would be awful at phone sex,” Harry says, seemingly out of nowhere.

“You don’t like scene building during phone sex?” Louis asks, incredulous. “What does that get you? Like, yeah, baby, love when you suck me off, but where are we? Am I pulling your hair? Is this desperate, are we alone? These are all serious questions.”

Harry blinks a few times, his lips parted. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” Louis says, smug. “And you like who I am.”

Harry hides his smile into the edge of his wine. “Will you just tell me what snack I’m making you on a Wednesday at midnight?”

Louis has to give Harry credit for keeping track of a conversation he ran off the tracks from a few tangents ago. “Oh, yeah. I’m not picky. Sometimes I get Taco Bell or a bag of hot Cheetos.”

Harry opens and then shuts his mouth. “So I wouldn’t be making you anything?”

“You could ride in the car with me on the way to Taco Bell?”

Harry laughs and shakes his head. “Thanks.”

Louis smiles indulgently, “You’re welcome, darling.”

They’re interrupted when their food comes, steamy lobster and smashed red potatoes with roasted vegetables. Louis wants to ask Harry his favorite snack but is forced to wait until Harry has the all the photos of his dinner that he wants. He takes a picture of Louis through the candlelight that looks ridiculously cool and Louis makes him send it to him immediately.

“I don’t even have your number,” Harry muses, handing over his phone.

It hadn’t even crossed Louis’s mind they haven’t exchanged numbers but he’s thankful neither one of them fell into the Grand Canyon or somehow got otherwise separated. Not that either of them would survive a fall into the Grand Canyon but, whatever. Not the point.

He saves his contact as just his name and then feels lame about it so he edits it to add a taco emoji for no good reason. He texts himself afterward and then hands the phone back to Harry who flips through the screen for a moment before setting it down.

“Were you nervous?” Louis asks, smirking as he presses his fork into the shelled lobster.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Isn’t that second nature when someone else has your phone, even if you have nothing to hide?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Louis says. “And if you were worried about me seeing your nudes,” Harry opens his mouth but Louis presses on, “I’ve already seen them in real life.”

Harry gapes and then glances around as if to make sure they’re still the only ones on the balcony. Louis laughs. “I don’t have nudes.”

Four words send a trigger from the stem of Louis’s brain to the front of his mind and he points his fork at Harry. “You do.”

Harry widens his eyes, “I think I would know better than you, Lou.”

Louis laughs, a black and white image standing out like a stark beacon in his mind. “You have that artsy BDSM shot. I saw on your Instagram.” He can’t believe it’s taken until now to mention it though he can’t think of any other time it has been mildly appropriate to bring up. Not that this moment is the best but he thinks they’re past the point of trying to be appropriate with each other.

“Those are not nudes,” Harry says quickly, his cheeks filing to pink in the candlelight.

Louis lets Harry takes a bite of his meal before he raises his eyebrows. “Those? There’s more than one?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have posted it on Instagram,” Harry says shaking his head. He takes another bite and chews slowly.

“Are you going to leave me hanging?”

“What?” Harry squawks his answer. “What am I supposed to be telling you?”

“How about why you had a BDSM photoshoot?”

Harry laughs, “Would you stop calling it that?”

Louis raises his eyebrows and narrows his eyes. “What should I be calling it?”

“A portfolio project?”

“For a BDSM convention?”

Harry sets down his fork to take a sip of wine and looks away. “My friend was doing his final project for his Photography major and he asked me to be in his portrait series.”

“Your friend?”

“He’s my roommate too”

“He?”

“Am I on the stand?” Harry asks tilting his head. “I don’t like it.”

“Sorry,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair once he realizes he’d been leaning in toward Harry. “I’m curious.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Harry says. “He just needed a portrait series and wanted it to be something different than like, ordinary portraits.”

“I’ll say,” Louis says, steadfastly not thinking about any other photos that may exist from the shoot.

“I liked how they turned out and he did too.”

Louis licks his bottom lip. “I thought maybe a boyfriend had taken them for you. Or a girlfriend.”

“No,” Harry says, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“You weren’t dating your roommate then?” Harry looks so fucking blissed in the photo, Louis still has it imprinted on his mind

“Zayn?” Harry laughs, “No.”

“Wait. Zayn Malik?” Louis asks lowly, not sure how many Zayn’s who are majoring in Photography exist on campus.

“Yes.”

Louis shakes his head, “He’s like, a model on his own.”

“You know him?” Harry tilts his head to the side.

“Kind of,” Louis says. “Friend of a friend kind of thing. Hard to forget a face like that. He should have starred in his own shoot.”

“Right,” Harry allows, “But he couldn’t take pictures of himself for a portfolio.”

Louis nods, “So he had to take naked photos of you in a collar?”

Harry laughs, “I was wearing jeans, you perv.”

Louis shakes his head, “Nope. I don’t like this at all.”

Harry presses his lips together and then they slip into a smile. “Is that jealousy I detect?”

“No,” Louis says, too quickly. Harry narrows his eyes and Louis looks away. “Maybe,” he says once he looks back. Is this a step toward admitting how he feels, he wonders. Telling Harry the thought of someone else seeing him the way Louis does makes his stomach warm in the wrong way?

“Zayn is straight,” Harry says, lifting his chin. “Just so you know.”

“That’s fine,” Louis says. “I’m not judging.”

Harry smiles. “Yeah? If I told you we did photoshoots like that all the time?”

Louis stares at Harry without emotion. “I’d be fine with that.”

Harry laughs and it whips through the patio like warmth under a blanket. “We don’t,” he says.

“Can we talk about something else?” Louis takes a bite of his dinner.

“Yes,” Harry says. “I don’t even know how we got here.”

“Nude photos,” Louis supplies. “Of which you have none.”

Harry smirks, “Or do I?”

Louis shakes his head firmly. “We’re going to safer ground. Favorite snack on a Tuesday night at ten. Ready, go.”

Harry grins. “What am I doing on Tuesday night at ten?”

Louis laughs for five full seconds before he can answer. They go back and forth for a few minutes before Harry decides if he was at home on a Tuesday and Louis was going to make him a snack, he’d take a break from whatever he was working on so they could make cookies. Louis tries his best not to be charmed into complete oblivion.

*

 

They take their time through dinner and finish nearly ninety minutes later, forking out a lot of money for the tip for their free meal. Harry runs back to throw more bills on the table when the host gives them a box of chocolate covered strawberries to go.

“We literally can’t ever leave this place,” Harry whispers as they walk back toward the main building.

“No,” Louis agrees seriously. “We’ll have to say our trip to Paris has been cancelled because we love their resort too much.”

“Paris?”

Louis nods, “Yeah, that’s the next leg of our fake honeymoon.”

Harry grins, “Aw, babe, you spoil me.”

Louis laughs and it only gets louder when Harry knocks their hips together and nearly sends them toppling.

 

*

 

Back in their room Harry hands the strawberries to Louis and immediately takes off his jeans.  
  
"What is happening?" Louis asks slowly, tracing Harry's movements with just his eyes.  
  
Harry laughs as he takes off his shirt and lets it fall to the ground. "Before my mom met my stepdad," Harry says, "When it was just her and me and my sister, we used to get dessert at restaurants and take it to go. Then we'd go home and get all cozy and eat dessert while we watched a movie."  
  
"Is that what you're doing?" Louis asks, half smiling as Harry pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a threadbare grey t-shirt.  
  
"Yes," Harry says, grinning. "Care to join me?"  
  
Louis laughs as he steps on the backs of his shoes to get them off. He drops the box of strawberries on the bed and goes to his own bag to find some clothes to change into. It feels like it's been the perfect day already. Fuck, he woke up with his cock in Harry's mouth and everything since then has only gotten better. Chocolate covered strawberries in sweatpants, in bed, with Harry is the ideal ending.

*

They end up sitting in the middle of the bed, on top of the covers and pressed together from hips to ankles, the box of strawberries cradled on Louis's thighs.  
  
"Are strawberries supposed to be sexy?" Harry asks, biting into one with his front teeth. The chocolate crumbles and the berry squirts, Harry's lips going red.  
  
"I think so," Louis says, taking a smaller bite out of his berry. "Not sure how," he laughs at the chocolate all over the edges of Harry's mouth. He uses his thumb to curve the edge of Harry's lips and licks over the chocolate that comes off. He misses the way Harry tracks the movement with easy eyes.  
  
"I could feed it to you," Harry suggests, always the most thoughtful.  
  
Louis presses his lips together. He can't think of any person he would possibly let feed him a strawberry in bed. Any person besides Harry. "Alright."  
  
"Yeah?" Harry seems surprised. He smiles when Louis nods and sets about finding the best berry, wiggling his fingers over the box of them.

He settles on one of the medium sized ones and plucks it from the box. Louis watches as he moves the box from Louis's lap and sets it on the nightstand only to replace it with himself in Louis's lap, one knee on either side of his hips.  
  
"Oh?" Louis raises his eyebrow.  
  
"I take my strawberries very seriously," Harry says, making sure he's holding just the stem in his fingertips.  
  
"Clearly." Louis swallows, happy to have Harry's warm weight on him. His hands fall to Harry's thighs and he rubs his thumbs in gentle circles, looking up into Harry's eyes.  
  
"Ready?" Harry asks, not breaking eye contact.  
  
"I think so?" Louis laughs over his words. "You're making this feel like something bigger than a berry."  He watches the amusement flicker over Harry's face.  
  
Slowly, Harry lowers the strawberry toward Louis's mouth. Louis alternates between the strawberry and watching Harry's face, his concentrated brows and his lip drawn under his teeth. Louis tilts his head back further, parting his lips slightly. He hums when Harry kisses him, slow, already tasting of strawberries. He pulls back with a smile and Louis licks his bottom lip.  
  
"You're quite good at this," Louis murmurs.  
  
"Yeah?" Harry's eyes crinkle when he smiles. "Do you feel seduced?"  
  
"Is that what you're doing?" Louis challenges. Harry dismisses him with a shake of his head.  
  
He starts his process of lowering the strawberry again, this time brushing the edge around Louis's lips without letting him get his mouth on it. It's a testament to Harry's skills that Louis thinks it feels like an erotic blow job, a tease with a chocolate prize. He tilts his head further and Harry pulls the strawberry back, smiling smugly.  
  
Louis smirks. "You're a tease."  
  
Harry smiles and then actually laughs. "Here, I'll let you have it this time." He adjusts his hips and hold the strawberry right against Louis's lips. "Open?"  
  
Louis does, slowly, not breaking eye contact like an elaborate version of foreplay with this single strawberry, a sensual bubble settling over them. His blood is already thrumming for Harry, his mind already getting Harry naked for him.  
  
But when Harry pulls the strawberry back and pops it in his own mouth, the bubble deflates and fills with Harry's laughter as he chews.  
  
Louis shakes his head, "You little shit."  
  
He waits until Harry swallows and then he tackles him backwards against the bed, the other part of Harry's strawberry flying across the room. Where it lands, neither of them notice.  
  
"You're such a fucking tease," Louis says as he tickles Harry's sides and up under his arms. Harry writhes and tries to kick but Louis holds him down with his thighs on either side of him.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Harry gasps between his laughter as Louis tickles his hips and over his stomach, relentless.  
  
"I really don't think that's true," Louis says, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt.  
  
Harry tries to pinch Louis's hip but Louis catches him, pinning both of Harry's hands over his head and leaning close so their chests touch.

"Got you," he whispers.  
  
He can feel Harry's chest against his, the thrum of his heartbeat through their thin shirts, his eyes tracing Louis's face the way they always do when they get this close.  
  
"Got me," Harry whispers.

  
Louis kisses him then because he's faced with no better alternative; nothing he would rather do. Harry sighs right into it, tasting like a chocolate strawberry as he opens his mouth further. Louis could get lost kissing him, his plush lips and the way his body relaxes. Even his hands pinned over his head relax under Louis's grip as they kiss. Louis doesn't think he knows anyone who likes being kissed the way Harry does and he won’t be the one to deny him what he wants.  
  
He slows their kisses to gentle pecks as he kisses the line of Harry's jaw to his neck, his hands sliding from Harry's wrists to his biceps and then shoulders and down. He starts lightly sucking a trail along his neck as he rolls Harry's shirt up slowly.  
  
They've kissed aimlessly to explore but tonight Louis has intention. They're in a bed bigger than his whole apartment, and he wants to take Harry apart on it. Harry is on the same page, helping to pull his shirt off as Louis traces the lines of the ferns on his hips and presses his nose and mouth above the waistband of Harry's sweats. He bites the thin skin under Harry's bellybutton and shivers with the cut off sound Harry makes.  
  
Harry takes some of his own control, too, sitting up to get Louis out of his shirt and then kissing along his collarbones as Louis plays with Harry's hair, his fingers twisting and tugging on the longer bits when Harry bites his nipple.  
  
Louis gets impatient and lays Harry back again, kissing him and slipping his hand down the front of Harry's pants to cup him through his boxers, palming the half-hardness there. Harry gasps against his mouth when Louis rubs harder, then presses his face to Louis's neck when he goes harder still.  
  
Harry helps in taking off his sweats when Louis starts to roll them down, kicking and flailing his legs around while making them both laugh. Louis loves the way they laugh even like this, the way laughter fits in as easily as the teasing, the heat laced with something charming. It's ecstasy, Louis thinks.  
  
Louis takes off Harry's boxers in a slower fashion than his sweats, thankful the lights are still on as he studies each curve and mark of Harry's body, the freckle on the highest crease of his thigh, the scar on his knee. Harry is hard already, flushed pink and wet. Louis licks his lips. He lifts Harry's legs one at a time to free his boxers, kissing the inside of each ankle once he finishes.  
  
Harry watches him steadily, his hands drawing over his stomach aimlessly as Louis undresses him. Louis sits his legs down and smiles, crawling up over him to kiss him hard, licking into his mouth because he can't help himself.  
  
He kisses a steady line down Harry's chest and pauses at the thin trail of hair disappearing where his waistband would be. "I want to try something," Louis says quietly, meeting Harry's eyes. "Okay?"  
  
Harry nods, half smiling. "You could convince me to move to Antarctica right now, if you wanted."  
  
Louis laughs. "Alright, babe. Tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?" Harry swallows and nods, his hands dropping to his sides.  
  
Louis goes back to making his trail down to Harry's cock, pausing to lick at his tip gently, smiling at the way Harry tenses his hips from pressing up. Louis continues further, kissing along Harry's balls as he slowly spreads his legs. Harry must have thought Louis was planning on a blow job if his, "Oh, god," as Louis spreads his cheeks with his palms is anything to go by. Louis grins and then presses closer, his tongue circling Harry's hole gently as he holds him open. Harry lets out a high whine, his hands scrambling for the sheets.  
  
He lifts his head, wanting to see Harry's face. Harry's head is thrown back, his lip caught under his teeth. "Okay, darling?" He asks, lightly squeezing his hands around Harry's ass.  
  
"Can't talk," Harry whispers. "I'm heading for heaven."  
  
Louis laughs and rolls his eyes before ducking back down to where he wants to be. He adjusts Harry's legs to drape over his shoulders before he really gets to work. He uses his tongue all the ways he knows how, circling and pushing, tasting and teasing. Harry absolutely writhes with it. His feet flexing and pointing, hips undulating, hands digging into the bed. He moans unabashedly when Louis hums against his rim and then begs for Louis's fingers like it's all he's ever wanted.  
  
Louis has to take a deep breath to compose himself before he starts in with his fingers. Harry is so much for him to have all at once he almost doesn't know what to do. He wants everything, everything, everything, but settles himself with whatever Harry has to give.  
  
Harry is wet enough for one finger to press inside, hot and warm as Louis continues to lick around his finger and nudge in further. "More," Harry whimpers in a voice Louis has never heard. It goes directly to his cock and stays there.  
  
Louis wants more just like Harry but the last thing he would ever do is hurt the boy under him. He sits up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and then crawls up to Harry's face. He presses the hair off his forehead and kisses Harry gently until he looks at him again.  
  
"We need lube, love."  
  
"I have some," Harry says quickly. "Bottom of my bag."  
  
Louis's lips twitch into a smile, "I have mine too."  
  
"We're prepared," Harry says, grinning.  
  
Louis kisses him again and then rolls off the bed to look through all of the stuff shoved in his bag for the lube he knows is there because he's looked at it every day of the road trip with nothing to use it for. He finds it next to the box of condoms because he's nothing if not diligently prepared. He hesitates and then grabs one out. He doesn't know if they'll use it but he'll have it anyway.  
  
Harry is smirking as he comes back to the bed, smiling when Louis raises his eyebrows at him. "What?" He asks, innocent enough.  
  
"Nothing," Louis says, getting back on the bed and crawling over Harry to his spot. He smiles as he kisses Harry, cupping the back of his head as Harry lifts his neck to meet him.  
  
He gets back to where they were soon enough, kissing and dripping lube over his fingers while he does it. He kisses Harry's hip and presses one finger in again, the slide better with lube instead of spit. Louis feels like he's seventeen and giving up his virginity again, remembering the basics like that.  
  
He sucks a mark on the thin skin of Harry's hip as he presses in a second finger, letting Harry push his hips down and adjust and then roll his hips to take Louis further. It's mesmerizing, the way he knows his body and lets Louis learn in the process.  
  
"You're beautiful," Louis whispers as Harry rolls his hips down again and gasps when Louis twists his fingers. For everything he does and says, those two words make Harry blush from his chest up to his cheeks. All Louis wants to do is shower him in compliments.  
  
"Will you fuck me?" Harry asks, sending Louis's thoughts into an automatic zigzag of fireworks and sparklers. "I want you to fuck me," Harry says like that will help Louis settle down.  
  
"Yeah," Louis says, mouth dry. "I want that, too, babe."  
  
Harry smiles and nods. "We're on the same page, then." He wiggles his hips. "Sooner rather than later?"  
  
Louis laughs and readjusts so he's between Harry's legs again. "Soonish," he says just before slipping to his stomach and pressing his tongue between where his fingers are inside of Harry. If they're going to do this, they're going to do it right.

*

Louis's version of doing it right has Harry's legs shaking, his body covered in sweat and his lips bitten red by the time Louis is pulling off his own sweats.  
  
"Okay, darling?" He asks Harry who is smiling at him with messy hair and bright eyes.  
  
"Cloud nine," Harry says with a smirk.  
  
Louis's cock feels dangerously hard as he pumps it once before tearing the foil on the condom. Harry sits up to kiss the tip but Louis has to push him backwards before he can get much further. "If you want this to be over quickly, you'll suck me off," Louis says, rolling the condom on. He laughs when Harry presses his lips together tightly.  
  
He's careful as he pushes inside Harry, one of Harry's legs up over his shoulder, the other bent at the knee. He has one hand on the curve of Harry's waist, the other on the base his own dick as he presses inside. He expects the first resistance though he has to squeeze his eyes shut at the hot pull of Harry's body, more when Harry opens his mouth to release a guttural moan.  
  
"You tell me when," Louis says. "Up to you."  
  
"More," Harry says, quickly. "I can do more."  
  
Louis stays steady as he pushes, watching Harry's face and registering each time his eyebrows tighten and then release into pleasure again. He doesn't know when Harry last did this, who it was with but he doesn't really care. He cares about this moment, this time, making it unforgettable in every possible way.  
  
When he bottoms out, Louis pauses, his hands dancing up Harry's sides in gentle sweeps. Harry closes his eyes and then opens them, nodding to encourage Louis on.  
  
"Good?" Louis asks to make sure.  
  
"Very," Harry confirms.  
  
From there it gets sloppy but it gets hot. They slide as they try to find a rhythm and then catch the same wave, Harry's hips rolling with Louis's. Their kisses are messy and they end up just breathing against each other's mouths, breathy moans swallowed against sweet tongues.  
  
"Feels so good," Harry groans out, his hands tight on Louis's back. Louis feels his fingernails and hopes for angry red scratches come daylight. He doesn't want this to disappear, doesn't want this to end.  
  
"You look so good," Louis says against Harry's cheek. He pulls back up to hold himself over Harry, to watch him. "You're so pretty, baby. Love the way you move for me, the way you fuck yourself on my cock."  
  
Harry nods and rolls his hips again, his lips so red from his own teeth and from Louis's. He stills all at once. "Oh god," he yells out.  
  
Louis grins and moves his hips the way he just had. Harry keens high in his throat and Louis knows he's found the spot he's been looking for.  
  
"Don't stop," Harry chants, his hands in his hair, his eyes rolling back in his head.  
  
Louis holds his breath as he twists his hips, hitting the spot in Harry he knows will turn his world upside down. "Are you close, baby?" Harry nods, meeting his eyes, mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. "You're so beautiful when you come for me," Louis says, not even meaning it as dirty talk but only as the truth. "So beautiful," he whispers, his own stomach clenching. There's fire licking his ribs and it's going to consume him but he has to get to Harry first, has to.  
  
"Do you need my hand?" Louis asks and Harry nods, his nostrils flaring.  
  
"Please," he says when he opens his eyes. "Please, Lou."  
  
It takes some adjusting but Louis gets a hand around him and twists, up and down as he moves his hips, whispering words against Harry's chest and under his jaw.  
  
"Gonna," is all the warning Louis gets before Harry is coming. Louis watches it sweep over him like a wave, his eyebrows pulling together and nose scrunching before relaxing as his back curves and hips press up, his cock spilling all over his stomach and Louis's hand.  
  
Louis works him all the way through until Harry shivers and then he pulls out, trying to catch his own breath. He would love to wait for Harry to recover enough to suck him off but he doesn't think it’s in the cards for either of them. Louis knees up Harry's body to his waist and peels off the condom just to get a hand on himself. He hisses at the sensation and Harry grins, his eyes already sleepy and sated.  
  
"Come on me, Lou," he says, his voice raspy from who knows what. "Mark me up."  
  
Those are the three words that do it, that and Harry's smug smile, as Louis orgasms with his whole body, his abs crunching as he comes, fireworks sparkling behind his eyelids. When he opens his eyes he still feels like the fizz from a soda can and he kisses Harry to wrangle it, contain it however they can.  
  
"Amazing," Harry whispers against his lips. "Amazing."  
  
Louis laughs and kisses him a bit more before crawling off of him to get a towel from their bathroom. He scoops up some of the discarded rose petals and scatters them all over Harry, making him laugh. Louis cleans him up gently and slowly, making sure to be thorough and careful as Harry hums quietly and closes his eyes.  
  
"Thank you," he says with a sweet smile, his eyes shut. "For taking care of me."  
  
"Always," Louis whispers without really thinking about it, kissing Harry again.  
  
Harry is the one who points out they fucked upside down on the bed and they laugh as they right themselves, slipping under the covers together. Louis uses the remote on the nightstand to turn out the lights, chuckling when he sees their discarded strawberries.  
  
He holds his arm out for Harry once he lays down and settles once Harry comes in closer to him, pressing together in all the spots they fit. Louis knows he won’t have this for always, may not even have it like this again but he falls asleep with the thought of maybe melting on his tongue. Maybe it doesn't have to be taken away, maybe they have a choice.

*

[DAY FOURTEEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166190258904/day-fourteen-birthplace-of-route-66-seligman)

Sedona, Arizona

 

Louis feels it when Harry wakes up. It starts with gentle movement in his arms and then it's a cool rush of air as Harry gets out of bed. He puts the covers back over Louis and the warmth is almost enough to send him back to sleep. He listens for Harry in the bathroom, the toilet flushing and sink turning on and off. He waits as he hears Harry's feet on the carpet. He waits for Harry to slide under the covers but it doesn't happen.  
  
Slowly, Louis opens his eyes to see Harry's back. He's sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the wall, his head in his hands. Just seeing it makes Louis shiver with helplessness, unsure what to do. As Harry turns he squeezes his eyes shut like a coward.  
  
There's some movement as Harry gets under the covers again but as Louis waits to feel his warm skin, nothing comes. Louis opens his eyes again to find Harry huddled on the very edge of the bed, the covers wrapped around his body, his back completely to Louis.  
  
Louis looks at the gap between them, questioning what has made Harry unable to cross the divide all of a sudden. He reaches out slowly, stretches his fingers to brush Harry's shoulder blade. When he flinches, it feels like a knife.  
  
"Yeah?" He asks quietly, looking over his shoulder.  
  
"Everything okay?" Louis asks, his voice heavy with sleep and something else more emotional.  
  
"Yeah," Harry says again except this time it's not a question but a final answer.  
  
Louis takes his hand back to himself and stares at Harry's back, waking up quickly now that alarm bells are prickling along his spine. It's still night time, he can tell by the lack of light from the windows but he feels wide awake.  
  
Harry doesn't move again and Louis watches the steady right and fall of his breath, wonders if he's already back to sleep. Louis drifts eventually but not until he's stared at Harry until his eyes sting. He can't, for the life of him, figure out what has happened since they went to sleep all he knows is the foot between his body and Harry's suddenly feels endless.

*

  
It's awkward once the sun truly rises and nine a.m. lingers  over them. Awkward is the only word Louis can use. They don't talk besides a brief, "Good morning". They take turns showering and then packing their bags, handing back clothes strewn around the room and avoiding eye contact. Louis hates it more than anything else he's felt between him and Harry but he doesn't know what to say or do to fix it.  
  
He starts to think about ways to tell Harry how he feels for once and for all, to put an end to the turmoil tucked under his heart when Harry solves it all for him.  
  
They're making the bed when the condom wrapper surfaces out of the covers, haphazardly torn from the heat of the moment. They both stare it like evidence of something filthy and then Harry plucks it up and smiles. "This came in handy, yeah?"  
  
Louis is speechless as he meets Harry's eyes. He doesn't know what Harry is saying or trying to imply but it feels like something cheap. Like Louis used him.  
  
"Thanks for last night," he says, crumbling the wrapper in his hand. "Best lay I've had in months."  
  
Louis inhales so sharply he thinks something has been punctured for a moment. His mouth goes dry and his ears ring as Harry equates everything between them to a good lay. His only solace is the way Harry's grin doesn't meet his eyes and when he drops his gaze. Louis watches the way the mask of a smile disappears. What's left is pain - the same pain reflected on Louis's face, he knows.  
  
"What are you doing?" he wants to ask but no words come. Instead he clears his throat and says, "No problem," like he's offered a service instead of his heart.  
  
He stops making the bed to go in the bathroom and try to catch his breath, each inhale shaky. In the silence of his caution not to be heard, he hears Harry instead. The distinct intake of breath followed by a quiet sob that makes Louis's throat swell as he rubs at his face.  
  
He doesn't know what's happening but it feels a lot like everything in him is breaking into a million pieces.

*

Louis knew, two days ago, falling for Harry would hurt him in the end. He didn’t expect the end to be day fourteen or for the end to come like this. Because, surely, that’s what this must be, he thinks, as they drive in silence. Surely this is the end credits on their story that never got the chance to get going in the first place.

Maybe it ended this morning when Louis came out of the bathroom, saw the reddened edges of Harry's eyes and didn't say anything, convinced there was nothing more to say, anyway. What could he add to make things better when, at every chance, Harry pulls further away. He's done it since the beginning of the thing they aren't supposed to discuss and Louis is the one who keeps pulling him back. This time is worse than the others. This time he actually thought there was more, a future he hadn't fully let himself consider for them until recently. A future Harry doesn't want.  
  
Maybe it ended when Harry said they shouldn't talk about their kiss and Louis agreed with him. Agreeing to pretend something wasn't happening never hid it, only pushed it. Pushed it down until it broke under its own weight of being kept a secret.  
  
Louis puts his head against the window and closes his eyes as Adele’s voice fills the car. Fucking Adele. He wants to start crying when he hears her voice anyway but this morning especially. Harry just hums along as he drives with two hands on the wheel, seemingly oblivious.

  
This is Harry's road trip, Louis has known all along. He should have recognized that meant playing by Harry's rules, he should have recognized Harry doesn't play fair.

  
*

The first leg of the drive is mostly quiet until Harry pulls over at a coffee shop for drinks. He gets out of the car without a word and Louis hears the slamming door like a knife under his lungs. If he would have resigned himself to hating Harry the first time he slammed the car door in his face, maybe they wouldn't be in this mess after all. It was impossible, he knows. And no one is at fault. Harry Styles made Louis fall for him without even trying; he never stood a chance.  
  
Louis is about to get out of the car for his own caffeine fix when Harry comes back out with two cups, a paper bag clutched between his teeth, sunglasses squishing the top of his hair down. Louis watches for a moment and then leans over to open the door from the inside so Harry doesn't drop anything.  
  
"Got you coffee," Harry says quietly as he gets in, handing Louis a warm cup.  
  
Louis stares for a beat and then takes a deep breath. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs but he nods instead. "Thanks," he says, leaning back in his seat. Harry opens the paper bag on his lap and shuffles around before pulling out something wrapped in wax paper.  
  
"And a ham and cheese croissant," he says, handing it over. He doesn't meet Louis's eyes as he hands over a couple of napkins as well.  
  
Louis isn't sure it's supposed to hurt this much as he says, "Thanks, H."  
  
Harry nods and takes out his own breakfast - a cheese danish - before crumpling the paper bag and tossing it in the backseat. Louis isn't sure this is much of an apology, he's not even sure he's even hungry but he settles into his seat as Harry starts the car. There are a few days left until LA and they have to get through them one way or another.

*

  
The Route 66 gift shop in Seligman is absolutely gaudy. They both laugh for the first time all morning as Harry pulls into the parking lot. The building is covered in Route 66 signs on the outsides - stickers, neon lights, flashing arrows. It's the Vegas of Route 66 all wrapped up in a tiny building that seems to vibrate with tacky energy.  
  
"Amazing," Harry whispers as he gets out his camera and Louis laughs because he can't help it. He throws away their empty cups and discarded wax paper bags with dirty napkins shoved inside rather than food as Harry takes pictures.  
  
Louis doesn't think he can stand with Harry and watch as he usually does so he wanders inside the gift shop, saying hello to the woman behind the counter who wears a Route 66 t-shirt with four or five pins of road signs stuck in at random.  
  
Inside is crammed with memorabilia, all of it fairly cheap and nonsensical. Louis thinks he has enough mementos from this road trip to last him; he doesn't need a tacky shot glass that makes him think of Harry every time he sees it.

That's what this trip has been about, after all. There have been sights and restaurants that blur together now and then, but through it all, there has been Harry. He's in every memory of the trip so far - the sweetest ones and the harder ones Louis knows he'll have to banish to the back of his mind.

"This is where Route 66 originally started," Harry says from behind Louis. He jumps a bit at his voice in the quiet shop, not even having heard him come in.  
  
"Really?" He turns slightly to look at him.  
  
Harry presses his lips together and nods. "The route already existed but in Seligman they decided to make it more tourist driven."  
  
Louis nods and wanders further into the shop. He can feel Harry lingering next to him but he can't figure out quite what to say. Where they were last night, tangled and sweaty, doesn't explain the tension running through the center of them now. Louis wishes there was an easy explanation, a painless one. He'd take it without question but he's not sure it exists.  
  
There is a section on the longest wall of the store for each state on the route and various kinds of memorabilia stacked all together - Louis sees the Cadillac Ranch in Texas and Blue Hole in New Mexico, even the caverns from Missouri. He pauses as he reads one sign in particular in the Missouri section.  
  
"Oh my god," he says as he laughs.  
  
Harry has been keeping his space for a few moments but steps in closer now. "What?"  
  
Louis points, "How'd we miss this?"  
  
He looks at Harry with the ghost of a smile on his lips as he watches him read the sign, his lips forming silently around the words, "Uranus Fudge Factory." He blinks once and then laughs, his smile widening as he catches Louis's eye. "Uranus," he says out loud.  
  
"Fudge," Louis repeats, scrunching his nose. They both laugh about it like twelve year olds, eyes squinting.  
  
"What an unfortunate name," Harry says, pointing out an entire line of Uranus merchandise under the fudge factory sign.  
  
"I can't believe it wasn't on the itinerary," Louis says with a shake of his head.  
  
"Me neither, honestly," Harry says, catching Louis's eye again. "I'll have to have a conversation with our itinerary agent."  
  
He laughs at his own joke and Louis rolls his eyes. He doesn't understand how Harry can be like this so easily when it pales in comparison to the way they were in the hotel this morning. He doesn't understand why Harry does this all so well but runs at any chance of serious emotion, a serious conversation.

   
They do end up buying a couple of souvenirs since they haven't done that much shopping so far, Harry's wiener key chain from Missouri notwithstanding. They both buy snapbacks that are white and black with the Route 66 emblem over the front and matching black mugs with kitschy sayings about getting kicks on Route 66.  
  
"We're kind of boring shoppers," Harry says as they wander back out to the car.  
  
"Might be," Louis allows. "But we bought functional items. That's important."  
  
"Yeah," Harry says with a smile. "Catch me in my hat with my mug every day from now on."  
  
Louis laughs as they get in the car, his stomach curling oddly. God, he wishes he could catch Harry. He just doesn't know how anymore.

*

They stop at the Snow Cap Drive-In for lunch on the edge of Seligman. "They really know how to do showy around here," Louis muses as they get out of the Jeep.  
  
"Clearly," Harry says as they look up at the restaurant. It's covered in paintings of hotdogs, hamburgers, soda and milkshakes with Route 66 emblazoned just about everywhere else. For the town that initially started Route 66, it definitely doesn't want anyone to forget about it. They order burgers and milkshakes at the walk-up window and then sit in the covered area outside at a bright red table that has probably seen better days.  
  
"Where else are we headed today?" Louis asks. Every time something has happened on this trip, they've come back to the itinerary. It's the safest conversation to have.  
  
"Black Mountains," Harry says, playing with the numbered card as they wait for their order. "There's a little town up there with lake houses. My mom actually has a friend who owns one and offered me a night when I came up that way."  
  
"I always like the sound of free," Louis says smiling.  
  
"Even if we have to work for it," Harry says motioning at the ring on Louis's finger.  
  
Fuck. He'd forgotten that as even there, actually. He'd had to wear it as a cover and he'd gotten used to it after a while, the weight of it on his finger. He's never even been the kind of guy who enjoys wearing rings.  
  
"Shit, sorry," he says, as he twists it off. It comes easily and he holds it over to Harry. "I totally forgot it was there."  
  
Harry stares at the ring for a quiet moment as their order number is called over the scratchy speaker. "You can hang onto it awhile longer," Harry says quietly, finally meeting Louis's eyes when he looks up. Before Louis can so much as respond, Harry is up off of the bench and heading for the window to pick up their lunch.  
  
It's Louis's turn to stare at the ring in the silence, everything it represented in the last two days. All of the experiences they were afforded because of it. He swallows hard and puts it on his opposite hand, on his middle finger. Maybe he'll hold onto it for a little longer. Maybe he'll pretend it means more than a fake wedding ring has any right to.

*

Of all the days to have a long drive, the three hour drive after Seligman and to the Black Mountains feels the longest. They don't talk very much, music pulsing through the speakers on a random shuffle from Spotify. Louis is left with only his thoughts that are getting more dangerous these days, circling in slow motion of doubt and romance, interlaced with memories he doesn't want to think about right now.  
  
As Arizona rushes past the window, a stream of red rocks and open canyon, brushes of greenery every once in a while, curving streams and rivers as they speed by, Louis loses himself. It's nothing more than a montage in his mind of memories at random, spiking up and then falling to be replaced with others.  
  
Harry walking into Niall's apartment, Harry's neck swelling and then Harry slamming the door on him. Harry smiling while he talks about art, his eyes lighting up. The beer nuts and the syrup farm, him yelling at Harry to take the turn off the freeway and the way Harry did, a different light in his eyes, then. He sees Harry in a life jacket in the canoe in Missouri and the way Harry looked in Bricktown when he was telling Louis about Matt. There's Harry falling asleep on him at the drive-in and his sleepy eyes when they drank coffee at sunrise.  
  
He tries to close his eyes and ignore the supercut his mind has insisted on playing for him but it doesn't go away.  
  
He sees Harry squatting by the Cadillac in Texas, his rainbow heart. There's Harry yelling at him on the side of the highway, their very first kiss and the way Louis's lips fizzed like fireworks after. Images of horses and their conversations in the kitchen of their cabin in Colorado.  
  
He breathes sharply as he replays kissing Harry on the hood of the Jeep, laughing through their lies at the Lightning Field, all of the macaroni and cheese, Harry under him in bed. He puts a hand to his stomach when he feels it jolt and presses his forehead to the glass of the window. He wishes he'd known how it was going to hurt, or maybe he's glad he didn't know it would be like this.  
  
It felt like they were fireworks, rushing up into the sky in a rush and exploding into a stream of colors and feelings, memories and effervescent smiles. This, he would assume, is the part where they fade away into smoke on their fall back to earth. They nearly reached the stars together. Nearly.  
  
Louis squeezes his eyes shut harder, willing himself not to get emotional. It’s all Harry behind his eyelids. Harry with his camera, Harry in the sunset light and Harry in the morning. Harry with puffy eyes when he wakes up and Harry with a filthy smile as he pulls back the shower curtain to pull Louis toward him.  
  
It's only been two weeks and somehow Harry has imprinted himself all over Louis like a stamp with too much ink. It feels like they've known each other for longer than fourteen days though Louis knows it's not true. He remembers not knowing Harry. He remembers it well, actually. It's not that kind of feeling - the feeling where you can't remember your life without someone. He remembers. It just was never quite as bright as it is now, as it has been with Harry for the last two weeks.  
  
The thought makes his throat bubble and he opens his eyes as the music changes to a Lorde song he hasn't heard before. _In your car, radio up. ... The visions never stop, These ribbons wrap me up ... In my head, I do everything right.  
_  
If Harry is offended when Louis reaches over to change the song, he doesn't show it. He just swallows and keeps his eyes on the road as Adele comes back on. As if Adele has ever been safer than Lorde.

*

They make a stop halfway through the drive for candy. Harry stretches his legs and gets gas while Louis goes in the small store nearby for Skittles and gummy bears. He sees a bag of the snap pea crisps Harry got on the first day and actually laughs as he plucks them off the rack to purchase.  
  
"Got you something," he says to Harry when he gets back, leaning against the side of the car as the tank fills.  
  
"Skittles, I hope," Harry says.  
  
"Yes," Louis says, smiling. "And weed chips." He hands over the bag of snap pea crisps and memories the way Harry's face lights up when he smiles.  
  
"You remembered."  
  
"Hard to forget," Louis says, meaning it from the very start.  
  
"You only got one bag, though," Harry says with raised eyebrows. "What am I going to do when you start stealing my peas?"  
  
Louis laughs and pulls out a second bag, "I have my own." Harry's laugh fills up the gas station like a balloon and when it pops, Louis lets the warmth rush over him. Everything hurts, nothing is okay but when Harry laughs it feels like it can be.

*  


Hazard. Slippery When Wet. Warning: Loose Rock. Warning: Sharp Turns Ahead. Flooding Possible. Yield Ahead. A simple exclamation point on a yellow triangle. No Passing Zone.  
  
"Harry," Louis says slowly as the signs all whiz by one after the other. "Did you see all of that?"  If Louis was in charge they would have turned around already but Harry doesn't falter.  
  
"Yeah," he says. He glances at Louis. "My mom's friend mentioned it's hard to get through the Black Mountains. There's a lot of curves and stuff."  
  
"And hazards and loose rocks," Louis points out. "Sharp turns and things that need no explainer beyond the most urgent punctuation mark, evidently."  
  
Harry laughs lightly, "I saw that. I want to start responding to texts like that. Just an exclamation point. See what happens."  
  
Louis laughs and settles into his seat as they curve up into the, evidently hazardous, Black Mountains. The roads are fairly easy curves at first, the greenery starting to get fuller as they drive. It's gorgeous, the way the road drops off on each side in dramatic fashion, the whoosh of the canyon around them. Harry hums quietly to the radio, both hands on the steering wheel.  
  
Louis looks over at him once in a while the way he seems so calm, has seemed calm all day. He's been quiet and not as outgoing as Louis has gotten used to but Louis has yet to see him squeeze his eyes shut like his throat is swelling or grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. Somehow, Louis is the only one so effected by the overnight change between them.  
  
He tries to let it go but he's not sure it works. There's a melancholy wave of anger stirred with confusion melting in his stomach. No good can come of a feeling like that.  
  
Steadily, the road gets thinner until two cars driving past in opposite directions would be split by only a couple of feet with a plunging canyon below. Louis feels the realization like pin pricks at the underside of his belly. Harry tightens his hands on the wheel slightly.

Out the window there is a mountain, maybe the Black Mountain - he's no expert. It shoots straight up next to the car with hardly any space between the window and the rock wall, far too tall for Louis to see the top. He remembers the sign about the loose rocks and feels nervous; like a bolder is just going to crumble off at any moment. Surely, Harry's mom's friend would have mentioned if that was a likely occurrence.  
  
The curves start to come closer together as they start going down into a valley. It seems counterintuitive to go down into a mountain though Louis assumes people don't actually stay in cabins on the top of mountains. He's unfamiliar with the wilderness lifestyle.  
  
Harry, for his part, slows to a glacial pace as he drives. He takes each curve slower than the next until it barely feels like the car is moving. Louis doesn't mean to be so loud when he sighs but Harry hears him.  
  
"What?" Harry asks without looking over as they start another climb of curves.  
  
"Nothing," Louis says as Harry eases onto the brake again. "Didn't realize grandma was driving." Harry doesn't look over but Louis sees him roll his eyes.  
  
He slams the brakes on the next sharp turn and the car jolts as he straightens out again.  
  
"Christ," Louis says with one hand over his heart. He didn't realize he was letting Harry take his life in his hands like this.  
  
"Shut up," Harry grumbles, something angry in his tone.  
  
Good, Louis thinks. He should be a bit angry, he should feel a bit of something after the whiplash of emotions Louis has felt the past seven hours.

Louis knows he shouldn't do it but it gets back to the poking thing again as they drive. He wants Harry to be mad, he wants him to show some fucking emotion besides complacent calm. Louis doesn’t want to feel like he's the only one hurting.

He knows what Harry looks like when he's happy and whenever they are together, he has been. He was never faking it and if he wants to pretend like he was, that's fine - but Louis isn't going to let him go quietly about it. They're going to start talking before the silence eats them.  
  
Each time Harry shoves the brakes down, Louis sighs. He makes a few more grandma and grandpa comments, intersperses a few eye rolls when Harry is looking at him. It feels good to do something besides stew over his thoughts, it feels good to let out some of his frustration even if it's coming out over something unrelated.  
  
On one of the turns Louis can see the rest of the route come into view and it's all sharp and jagged. It's by far the roughest part they've encountered and he curls his fingers with nerves as he looks out over the edge into the canyon.  
  
Harry tightens his hands as he starts the progression of turns, slow and steady. He hits the brakes again and Louis slams the dashboard with his hands. "Fuck, Harry. If you keep doing that the momentum is going to fling us off the fucking cliff."  
  
"Sorry," Harry mutters instantly making Louis feel like a jackass. "This is hard, okay?"  
  
Louis always takes off more than he can chew and this time it's about to make him choke. "It's not that hard, you're being a baby about it."  
  
"It is hard," Harry says with gritted teeth. He takes a turn slightly quicker but far under the speed limit. "You breathing down my neck isn't helping matters."  
  
"Fuck off," Louis says, crossing his arms. "I'm just trying to make sure you don't kill us."  
  
"No," Harry says loudly, "You're trying to make me nervous. You know what you can do to me."  
  
"What the fuck does that mean?" Louis raises his voice, true confusion shining through as they edge the next curve.  
  
"You know," Harry yells. "You know I'll let you push and won’t stop you. You know you're my weakness."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Louis turns in his seat to face Harry this time. "You've lost your goddamned mind if you think I know anything about the way you feel."  
  
Harry shakes his head and his jawline pulses, his lips pressed tight. They take a blind turn and it swishes them like jelly as they finally get to a break in the road, the first shoulder since they started.  
  
"Fuck," Harry yells, pulling the car over. "I can't do this anymore, Louis." Louis doesn't know if he means the drive or Louis or something else altogether but he slams his hands on the wheel and throws the parking brake. "I can't do it."  
  
He gets out of the car in a rush this time but Louis doesn't let the door slam in his face. He flips off his seatbelt and tumbles out of the passenger side, his sneakers kicking up dust as he lands on the gravel. He finds Harry at the back of the car, walking a narrow line along the highway with his fists over his eyes.  
  
"Harry," Louis says, nothing more than a warning for him to not walk blindly along the road but it breaks the dam.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry says, dropping his fists and revealing watery eyes, a stray tear track across his cheek. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Louis knows Harry cried this morning, or at least got emotional while he was in the bathroom, enough for his eyes to go red. But this, seeing Harry teary eyed in front of him breaks everything he thought he felt, unties all of the ribbons around the emotions he'd tried to wish away all day.  
  
"Baby," he breathes as he crosses the distance between them. Harry is just standing there staring at him his hands loose at his sides and his eyes sparkling with something Louis doesn't want to see. "Darling," he whispers again as he pulls Harry to him. Harry collapses like he's been waiting, his face pressing to Louis's neck like he belongs.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he says against Louis's neck. Louis can feel the wetness against his skin at Harry's words. "I'm sorry for all of it."  
  
"It's okay," Louis says quietly, running his fingers through Harry's hair and down his back. He doesn't know what the apology is for but he takes it. He wanted Harry to break and he made it happen, he made him cry.  "I'm sorry too," he offers out in a quiet declaration just for Harry.

He is. He’s sorry for pushing Harry like this, saying mean things in the car he didn’t really mean. In a rush, he realizes he’s sorry for more than that. He’s sorry for the way things changed between them, the way things hurt. He’s sorry they took something fragile and broke it to pieces.  "I'm sorry for everything,” Louis says.

  
Harry inhales and then whispers, "I'm so stupid,” and Louis hears it like he's yelled it.  
  
"Hey, no," Louis says shaking his head and dislodging Harry from him. He makes Harry look up and holds his face between his hands, "No, you're not." We both are, he thinks but doesn't say.  
  
In slow motion, like a Colorado morning all over again, Harry leans in to kiss Louis on the side of the highway. He tastes like saltwater this time but Louis presses his tongue between Harry's lips anyway, licking away the flavor to replace it with his own. Harry opens his mouth easily, pressing in closer until there isn't air between them.  
  
Nothing makes sense, nothing is okay but this, Louis thinks, this feels like falling leaves, coming home and a warm cup of tea all at once.  
  
Louis waits for Harry to pull back first, and when he does Louis feels guilt immediately roll through his ribs. He made Harry break like this, he made Harry storm out of the car, he made the tears that are drying on Harry's face. He kisses the arch of Harry's cheekbones, the last tear he sees.  
  
"What are we doing to each other?"  Harry asks in a whisper Louis isn't sure he's meant to hear.  
  
He just closes his eyes and kisses Harry again, slowly. He doesn't know. He's begged Harry to talk but now that he asks, Louis doesn't have an answer. They're not treating each other the way they should, he knows. They're not being nice and careful with their hearts. They're reckless and wild, fluorescent and free with no way of slowing down. Maybe it's time to slow things down, maybe it's time to stop with expectations and disappointments and thinking too much.  
  
"I don't know," he whispers back and lets the words linger. "I don't know."  
  
Harry nods and kisses him again, maybe satisfied with the answer, or maybe because there's nothing else to say right now. Not here, not like this.  
  
"Is this a thing?" Louis asks when they pull away, wanting to free his heart from the heaviness that has settled like a cloud. "Kissing on the sides of highways?"  
  
Harry laughs and it sounds a little raw as he sniffs. "Maybe," he says. He kisses Louis again. "Maybe it is with us."  
  
Louis lets himself be kissed and lets the emotion settle raw in his chest there with the Black Mountains and the afternoon sun as a witness. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows this isn't the solution, this isn't the answer but he's holding Harry in his arms and that makes it feel like it could be enough.

*

Louis takes over driving when they get back out of the car. It's partly out of guilt and partly because he's not sure Harry is eager to get behind the wheel yet.  
  
The road is hard and the curves seem to come out of nowhere. Louis may end up driving slower than Harry did but Harry is too good of a person to point it out.  
  
"I think it's that green one," Harry points when they directions lead them to a dead-end cul-de-sac of small cabins under a canopy of trees. As they drove down the final road, Louis could see the lake sparkling behind the houses. Deep blue and calm.  
  
They're quiet as they get out of the car, grabbing their bags. Harry gets the key hidden under a garden gnome wearing a bathing suit before unlocking the door. It feels fragile, the leftover tension between them after they got back in the car.  
  
There's no light laughter between them as they walk through the house and look around, no electricity when they meet eyes. But there's also no hesitation as they go into the bedroom to put their bags down on the same bed.  
  
"Thanks for last night. Best lay I've had in months," rings back though Louis's head like a bell. There's no way Harry could have meant that. No way he could be that cruel. It only takes a moment before Louis hears his own voice in his memory too, "No problem." They both fucked this up.  
  
Louis looks up and meets Harry's eyes from across the bed. They hold each other's gaze for a beat of silence. If Louis had to guess, Harry is remembering the same thing Louis is. He swallows and looks away, eyes catching over the window on the other side and the lake just beyond. The water looks endless from here, like it cascades over the edge of the world.  
  
"Do you want to swim?" Harry asks, eyes on Louis.  
  
Louis looks back and nods, "Yeah."  
  
They change into swim shorts and then Harry sifts through all of the closets for beach towels as Louis peruses the refrigerator and freezer. Both are empty.  
  
"Do you want pizza for dinner?" Louis asks when Harry comes back with two towels faded by the sun and sea.  
  
"Do you think they deliver out here?"  
  
Louis shrugs, "I guess we'll find out. Swim and then pizza?"  
  
"An ideal evening," Harry says, a small smile on his lips.  
  
They unlock the back door with some effort and then head down the grassy knoll right to the lake. Louis tries not to gasp when Harry grabs his hand, intertwines their fingers. This is the only thing they know how to do, it seems. They can't talk, can't identify emotions, but they can touch and hold. Louis squeezes Harry's hand in his.  
  
[They lay out their towels on the shared dock between three houses, the sun already heading toward a sunset in the sky](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166190509759/day-fourteen-black-mountains-arizona-x-x). No one else is outside and there are a couple of orange leaves already floating at the edges of the lake. All of the summer kids must have gone back to school already, no one else planning to swim just before dinner.  
  
"I feel like we own the lake," Harry says once he straightens his towel.  
  
"Did I not tell you?" Louis smirks, "I'm the prince of the Black Mountains. Everything the light touches belongs to me."  
  
Harry stares at him and tries not to smile but he starts laughing anyway, his eyes closing. It's the sweetest sound, Louis thinks. He misses it every time Harry tries to muffle it with his hand.  
  
Louis jumps off the dock first, despite Harry's incessant warnings of making sure it's deep enough before he does. "It's fine," Louis calls once he surfaces. "I didn't even touch the bottom."  
  
Harry crosses his arms, "Are you fucking with me?"  
  
Louis's laughter echoes loudly. "I fuck with you about a lot of things but not about something that will actually kill you."  
  
"Okay," Harry says, mollified. He takes off at a run and cannon balls next to Louis, splashing him in the face and giggling about it when he finally surfaces.  
  
They float around as the sun sets, the water mirroring the sky like fire all around them. They talk a little - about family vacations when they were kids and learning to swim - but it's quiet otherwise as they kick around.  
  
Louis pulls up on the dock to watch the end of the sunset and Harry joins him though he falls off the dock twice on accident before he manages to make it up fully. The sky is like a painting all around them, colors blurring and hazing as the biggest light in the sky leaves the clouds behind.  
  
"God, this is nice," Harry says quietly, his hands resting at his sides.  
  
Louis breathes in the mountain air, Harry breathing steadily next to him, the view that looks like a picture. "I know," he says quietly. He kisses the side of Harry's shoulder because he can and then rests the side of his head there. At first, it's stilted but then Harry shifts to tuck Louis under his arm, the lake water on their bodies meeting and drying on their skin.  
  
Louis feels when Harry brushes his lips through the top of Louis's hair and then settles as they start to synchronize their breath.

Louis knows, he thinks he knows, that what Harry said this morning, what he did, was all a lie. He knows a lot of things about Harry, he has a lot he still has to learn but he is pretty sure that Harry has already shown him his heart. Even if he tries to back track now, Louis knows what he looks like on the inside.  
  
It's not cold and dead like he wants Louis to believe. The fact is, Louis's heart isn't either. Not since fourteen days ago. Harry's heart is summertime, daisies, butterflies and fizzy drinks. Louis would know. He thinks he'd be able to recognize a heart that mirrors his own.

*

"Ask for cheese in the crust."  
  
Harry scrunches his nose. "What?" Then he waves his hand as someone answers on the other line. "Hi, we're in the middle of nowhere and we'd like a pizza."  
  
Louis laughs and covers his mouth when Harry plugs the ear not pressed to the phone. He's sitting on the kitchen counter in his swim shorts with Louis between his legs, the address their staying at written on a piece of paper next to his thigh. He picks it up and reads it to the person on the phone.  
  
"Wait, seriously? You deliver here?"  
  
Louis cheers silently, squeezing Harry's bare hips. Harry squeaks as he tries to order their pizza with half mushrooms and olives and half Canadian bacon and olives.  
  
"Cheese in the crust," Louis whispers again.  
  
Harry rolls his eyes. "Do you ever put cheese in the crust? Yeah? Okay, can we have that please."  
  
Louis rises up on his toes to kiss Harry quickly, smiling when he pulls away.  
  
"How much would it be for a bottle of wine?" Harry asks without breaking eye contact from Louis. "Maybe two bottles?" Louis grins.

*

They sit on the carpet around the coffee table with glasses of wine and their cheese filled pizza, playing board games in their sweats and hoodies, hair dried all haphazardly from the lake. It feels like every other night as they tease each other over dumb things and Louis finds out that Harry is scarily good at all word related games while Louis makes a killing off of Clue and Guess Who. They leave the front window open to look out over the lake, the moon shining over the water like a bulb of light in the dark sky.  
  
For once, Louis tries not to think about how this could easily be a Friday night back in LA, how this isn't too astronomical to take back with them into their real lives. For once he takes the moment for what it is, Harry's wine-purple lips and teeth.  
  
They end up giving up on Monopoly in favor of a movie and share a blanket with soft kisses to the opening credits of "P.S. I Love You." Harry's movie choice, definitely not Louis's. They stay pressed together for the whole film, Louis's hand rubbing over Harry's stomach under his sweatshirt and then lightly scratching his back aimlessly.  
  
"You didn't tell me I would cry," Louis accuses at the very end, laughing over his tears when Harry looks over with the same mess all over his face.  
  
These tears are okay, Louis decides. Tears over fictional love stories are therapeutic, not like the ones on the highway. He never wants to see Harry's tears like that again. Even the thought has him surging forward to kiss Harry, hard enough that they both fall over, their legs tangling in the blanket.  
  
"Take me to bed," Harry whispers when both of their cheeks are flushed and their hips are writhing rhythmically against each other on the couch.  
  
Louis leads Harry by the hand and then pushes him back into the plush bed, kissing him under the cover of moonlight from outside. Harry holds on tighter than he has and Louis is too caught up to let go and do anything properly. He doesn't want to let go of the way they’re twisted together.

The result is they get off by rubbing against each other, making out with wine-dyed mouths and quiet hums. Harry comes first, his whole body shaking against Louis's and Louis follows after a few more rubs against Harry's thigh, biting Harry's lip in the midst of his own pleasure.  
  
They manage to change out of their messy pants and into fresh boxers but then they crawl back into bed, piling the covers over themselves. For a moment, Louis holds his breath as he waits to see if Harry will turn away. It doesn't come.  
  
Harry rolls on his side to face Louis and presses in until their bellies and chests are pressed together and Harry's face can slot right against Louis's neck.  
  
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Louis whispers into the quiet room as Harry breathes out steadily. He feels Harry kiss the side of his neck and then his eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes. He doesn't know what will happen in the morning, in the curse of daylight, but he lets himself fall asleep with a smile ghosting on his lips.

*


	8. Day 15 & 16

**[DAY FIFTEEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166191422409/day-fifteen-lake-havasu-arizona-x-x-x) **

Black Mountains, Arizona

 

Louis wakes up sweaty and sticky with Harry's body on top of him and all the covers piled over them. He tries to wiggle his way out but Harry pulls him in tighter like a koala. Louis isn't even sure he's realized he's doing it.  
  
"Get off me," he says as nicely as possible as he continues to wiggle away.  
  
"What?" Harry asks without moving or opening his eyes. He adjusts over Louis's bladder and the situation intensifies by three.  
  
"Off, babe," Louis says. "I'll pee on you."  
  
"What?" Harry repeats louder, this time opening his eyes and focusing right to Louis. "What?"  
  
"Just get off," Louis says again.  
  
Unfortunately, as Harry starts to move is when Louis gets desperate and pushes Harry with two hands. The result is Harry flying off the side of the bed, landing with a dull thud.  
  
"Oh, fuck," Louis whispers and then he scrambles off the edge of the bed and on top of Harry. "Are you okay?" He asks, feeling over Harry's chest and running his hand over the back of Harry's head to make sure he didn't hit the side table when he fell. He stops when he sees Harry smiling.  
  
"I'm fine, babe," he says. "A bit shocked you'd throw me off the bed, to be honest."  
  
"I didn't," Louis says quickly. He kisses Harry's lips as if to reinforce the idea. "I promise that wasn't on purpose."  
  
Harry purses his lips. "Kiss me again, then."  
  
Louis rolls his eyes but indulges Harry anyway, kissing him again, slow and deep, the way Harry should be kissed each morning.  
  
"I thought you had to pee," Harry says when he pulls back, his hands falling to Louis's thighs and fingering the hem of his boxers.  
  
"I do," Louis says. "You made me forget."  
  
Harry nods, "You should go take care of that now."  
  
Louis laughs, snuffling through his nose. "You don't like water sports?"  
  
Harry grimaces, "Please get off me," he says. "Go take care of your bathroom duties alone."  
  
"Duties," Louis laughs to himself as he gets up. By ways of mornings, this one is much better than the one before.

*

  
They eat cold pizza for breakfast at the kitchen table and Louis tries to convince Harry to go swimming one more time.  
  
"Look where we're going, though," Harry says, flipping his phone around so Louis can see. "Lake Havasu."  
  
"Isn't that where people go on Spring Break?" Louis asks, laughing. The water is teal and only a shade different than the sky, the drinks multi colored and the sandy beaches white. It looks like Jamaica in the middle of Arizona.  
  
"Yes," Harry says, "And it's a lot better than swimming in an ordinary lake."  
  
"You haven't even been," Louis says handing back the phone. "How do I know that's true?"  
  
Harry shrugs. "I guess you'll have to trust me?"  
  
Louis smiles so wide his cheeks pinch. "I can do that."

*

 

"I'm tired of being the car."  
  
Louis pauses with his hand on the key in the ignition. "H, we've been in the car for five minutes."  
  
Harry laughs as he puts on his sunglasses and puts one foot up on the dashboard. "I mean, in general."  
  
Louis shakes his head. "You still surprise me with the things you say considering you planned this trip."  
  
Harry smiles, "A cross country road trip sounds different out loud than when you actually do it."  
  
"True," Louis says, turning on the GPS and pulling away from their temporary lake house. "I thought I was going to be bored out of my mind, quite honestly."  
  
"Hey," Harry says with narrowed eyes. "Rude."  
  
Louis laughs. "We didn't get along like a house on fire, if you remember correctly."  
  
"We still don't," Harry muses.  
  
"Significantly more like a house on fire than the beginning."  
  
Harry laughs loudly, "Yeah, okay, I'll give you that."  
  
Louis navigates out onto the highway heading west with the stereo playing softly as Harry hums along. He loves the way Harry hums one level lower than whoever is singing, like he's harmonizing without thinking about it.  
  
They hit the desert off of the mountains and the temperature steadily rises until they're blasting the air conditioning and making sure the car doesn't over heat.  
  
At the halfway mark Louis gets a craving he can't kick and throws his phone to Harry. "We're getting ice cream," he says without asking permission.  
  
Harry stays still for so long Louis looks over. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"I don't know," Harry half sings in a low voice. "I don't think that's on the itinerary."  
  
"Really?" Louis catches Harry's lips twitching when he nods. "I think we've moved past the itinerary being the guiding light, babe."  
  
Harry sighs, "You corrupted me."  
  
"That's not true," Louis defends himself, "I've added flavor and adventure to your life."  
  
Harry is smiling at him in the quiet and it makes Louis a bit itchy for reasons he can't explain.  
  
"I've also given you orgasms," he adds on to keep things light. He realizes it's a crude thing to actually say out loud and there's a hair of a moment when he worries he's offended Harry. The moment explodes with Harry's cackling laughter that fades off into a quiet chuckle as he puts one hand over his stomach. Louis smirks. It loosens something in his chest for the first time in a couple of days.  
  
"So," Harry says once he recovers. "Ice cream?"  
  
Harry finds an organic ice creamery only a slightly off the route and though organic always makes Louis question the authenticity of junk food with the label, he follows the directions to take them there.

They get double scoops on freshly made waffle cones from the walk up window and then race to eat the melting ice cream in the Arizona sun. They end up with sticky mouths, hands and shirts and Louis gets a few pictures of Harry licking his cone erotically. The funny thing is, they both decide as they review the photos, is that Harry wasn't intending to be erotic. He was just eating the cone.  
  
"It's your tongue," Louis muses. "It's ridiculous."  
  
"Thank you?" Harry tilts his head, "I think?"  
  
"Definitely a compliment," Louis says nodding quickly. "Personally, I'm a big fan of your tongue."  
  
Harry actually blushes as he tries to cover it with a laugh. Louis smirks and finishes the last bit of his cone. He knows they're not talking about it - the things they've been doing - but acknowledging them in daylight, even as a joke, feels a bit therapeutic.  
  
"You should use those pictures on your blog. Erotic cone licking. You'd get a niche following, I bet."  
  
Harry laughs and rolls his eyes, popping the smallest point of his cone into his mouth. "I'm actually behind on my blog. Any following I did have has long gone. I'll probably catch up once I'm home."  
  
"Why are you behind?" Louis asks as they walk back to the car, waving at the sweet woman who served them their organic cones.  
  
"I don't know," Harry muses with a cheeky smile, "Something about tongues and orgasms, I would imagine."  
  
Louis laughs with his head tipped back to the sun, letting the sun soak into his curved cheeks. In the car, he leans over Harry to get out the hand sanitizer wipe he stole from a barbecue restaurant in Texas to wipe off their sugary, sweet, and sticky hands.  
  
"Thanks for stopping," Louis says with a glance at Harry as he pulls back to the route.  
  
"Anything for you," Harry says seriously before coughing. "I mean anything for ice cream." He looks out the window on the opposite side and Louis has no idea if he actually just said something he meant or if he's being cheeky again but he feels the butterflies in his stomach start to rustle.

  
*

  
  
The first thing they see in Havasu City is a group of women as old as their moms in bikinis but instead of wearing tops they've opted for strategically placed nipple covers of differing shapes and designs. Louis slows the Jeep to let them all cross the road and he's pretty sure he and Harry both gawk for longer than is socially acceptable.  
  
"Spring break, baby," Louis hums as the group makes it safely to the other side.  
  
Harry smiles and licks his bottom lip. "I'd quite like some. A gold pair perhaps."  
  
Louis laughs as he starts driving again, "That would look stunning with your golden boots."  
  
"What golden boots?" Harry asks, looking over with his eyebrows drawn together.  
  
"You wore golden boots in Bricktown," Louis says, "When we went out."  
  
"I'm glad you noticed my boots," he muses. "I'm not sure anyone pays that good of attention."  
  
Louis doesn't really have an answer for that. If Harry only knew all the things he's noticed about him in less than half a month.

*

Lake Havasu is mostly made up of resorts and hotels but there is public beach access as well which is what Louis and Harry decide on, planning to get a hotel later in the day.  
  
They change into their swim shorts in a public changing room and then grab out their beach towels and matching Route 66 snapbacks, laughing as they both put them on backwards. Harry digs out some sunscreen, his camera, and a book before they head out onto the beach. There's a cabana on the way and Louis stops to buy water bottles and some protein bars, taking note of the sack lunch options for later.  
  
As they've now twirled into the off-peak season of the end of the summer, the beach is hardly crowded - just pleasantly full. There are giant blue umbrellas every few paces that people have claimed as their shade spots. Louis finds one in the middle of a throng of people but when Harry points to one a bit further back but more secluded they both head right for it.  
  
The water is more green than teal but Louis forgives Harry for his false reference pictures because the landscape around the lake is breathtaking, the blue sky endless over them.  
  
"I think I'm going to lay out first," Harry says thoughtfully as he looks around. "And then swim. And then lay out again."  
  
Louis laughs, "And then swim again?"  
  
"And then have a drink," Harry says. "Did you see those guys drinking something pink out of mason jars?" Louis shakes his head. Admittedly, as they walked he was focused on Harry's ass in his blue shorts and not much else. "Well that's what I want."  
  
"Okay, princess," Louis says lightly. "We'll get you a drink in a mason jar."  
  
Harry nods once, "Great." His lips twitch into an almost smile that he tries to hide.  
  
They lay out their towels and lather on sunscreen, helping each other with their backs and shoulders. Louis takes a bit longer with Harry than he would anyone else, making sure he's thorough. He finishes by tickling Harry's hips and kissing the side of his neck just because he can. It makes Harry squawk like a bird and they both end up laughing as they get a few offhand looks thrown their way.

The water is almost warm when they venture in, swimming out past most of the crowd and floating around on their backs. The lake doesn't stay perfectly round and there are sporadic inlets around the edges. They both dog paddle to one of the smaller ones with no one around and take turns diving to the bottom to try and touch before coming back up.  
  
"For all our water activities, you only used your waterproof lens thing once," Louis points out when Harry mentions wanting to see at the bottom of the lake.  
  
"My mind has been on other things," Harry says, treading water and letting it run through the gaps in his fingers. "Wouldn't it be cool, though? To see the bottom?"  
  
Louis drifts toward one of the inlet walls and sets his heels on a low shelf of rocks to give himself a break from swimming. He doesn't want anyone to be finding his body at the bottom of the lake because he dies of exhaustion. "I guess," he says. "Would probably just be dark in a picture though."  
  
Harry ducks under the water and comes back up. He pushes his hair out of his face and smiles. "I don’t mean a picture. But if you just drained the lake completely and saw what was on the bottom."  
  
"You can't just go draining lakes, H. Think of the environment."  
  
"Would you use your imagination for one second?" Harry plays up his frustration. "Set down the lawyer logic."  
  
Louis smiles and tips his head back toward the sun. "Are you telling me I'll be a good lawyer?"'  
  
Harry floats closer to him. "Yes, you'll be amazing." He says it so confidently that even though they're just joking around Louis wants to believe him. The kind of power Harry has over him is truly mind blowing.  
  
"Back to the lake," Harry says, catching Louis's attention again. "It would be so cool to see what people have left over down there, things they haven't realized they lost.  
  
"I'd guess there are a lot of flip flops, phones and soggy t-shirts."  
  
"How about a locket?"  
  
Louis rolls his eyes, "Sunk into the ocean after eighty-four years?"  
  
Harry's smile widens. "You know Titanic?"  
  
"Is that a question?" Louis raises one eyebrow. "Who doesn't know Titanic?"  
  
"Is it weird that I'm a little turned on right now?"  
  
Louis actually cackles with his head thrown back and it echoes in their private space. He reaches for Harry as he's laughing and finds him easy to pull in surrounded by water like this. He doesn't let go until Harry is pressed right up against him so they can kiss, one hand holding Harry's jaw.  
  
"You're ridiculous," Louis whispers against his lips. I think I could fall in love with you, is what he doesn't say out loud.  
  
When Louis paddles back to shore, he has a Harry on his back, his arms wrapped around Louis's shoulders and his chin tucked next to Louis's neck. They feel weightless like this as Harry kicks along with him, the smell of sunscreen, sunshine, and water washing over them in slight waves.  
  
They lay out on their towels to dry off, the sun taking away the stray drips of water on their bodies and warming them up straight to their core. Louis keeps his eyes closed and spreads his fingers, running right into Harry's hand. He goes to pull away but Harry takes Louis's hand in his, simple as anything, twisting their fingers together under the afternoon sun.  
  
Eventually Louis dozes though he doesn't quite realize that's his intention until he's waking up again. Waking up to Harry's chin on his chest as Harry studies his face. Louis isn't surprised when he blinks his eyes open beneath his sunglasses. It feels normal to find Harry like this now, always somewhere close by, somehow touching Louis when he sleeps. He remembers the morning in Sedona he woke up to Harry's back to him but pushes the thought away immediately, that's for a different time.  
  
"Hi, there," he says when Harry's eyes meet his through their sunglasses.  
  
"Hi," Harry says with a smile that Louis pretends is only for him. He's yet to see Harry give it to anyone else so, technically, it may be.  
  
Slowly, Harry reaches out for Louis's face and traces his cheekbone with two fingers. Louis closes his eyes under Harry's stare, the way he drags his fingers down lower and then over Louis's bottom lip twice. He's already expecting it when Harry kisses him, presses their sun warmed lips together sweetly. Louis hums into the kiss, smiling before he can stop himself.  
  
He's already known he could get used to mornings with Harry, and nights, too but this - waking up from a mid-afternoon nap to this boy on top of him would be nothing short of everything. He prays Harry can't feel the way his heart beats wildly in his chest.  
  
"I'm hungry," Harry murmurs against his lips. He pulls back and puts his chin on Louis's chest again. "Are you?"  
  
"Always," Louis says. "I'm literally always hungry."  
  
"My man," Harry laughs, kissing the curve of Louis's pectoral muscle. Louis laughs and closes his eyes again, those two words making his heart pinch.  
  
"Do you want to stay here and get sandwiches from the shack or should we wander?"  
  
"Let's wander," he says, smiling when Louis runs a hand along his lower back lightly. "I'm up for an adventure with you."  
  
"Yeah?" Louis taps his ass and grins, "You've come so far, baby. Going on adventures all the time now."  
  
Harry laughs and kisses Louis again. "You're rubbing off on me."  
  
Louis lifts his hips against Harry's thigh. "Yeah?"  
  
"Gross," Harry says loudly as he rolls back to his own towel, laughing.

*

  
They end up wandering along a pier they find behind where they had originally parked. There are different cafes and restaurants along the water with people riding their bikes and roller skating, some jogging along casually. "I would die," Harry says stoically as someone runs by in leggings and a long sleeve shirt. Louis agrees easily.  
  
Harry takes pictures at the edge of the pier and Louis holds onto the back hem of his shirt like that will keep him from falling in. They happen to be in time for a small parade of corgis going by wearing rainbow capes and Louis thinks Harry may go into cardiac arrest as he gets on his knees to take their photos as they prance past. There's a few babies toddling along in rainbow outfits to match the dogs and Harry restrains from taking their photos but watches with such a saccharine smile on his face Louis almost gets a toothache.  
  
They eat salads at one of the cafes they find and Louis doesn't complain about it. His body will probably be so shocked by the vegetables during digestion he'll get a stomach ache but he doesn't think about that as he eats. Harry eats kale willingly and Louis has to make fun of him for turning into a Los Angeles shell of himself. Harry seems to take offense to it and refuses to speak for at least thirty seconds.  
  
At the very end of the pier they find a boat that seats six and serves wine for a cruise around the lake. There isn't even a question between the two of them as they purchase tickets for the next ride.  
  
"Oh, it's like a romantic thing," Harry mutters once they get on the small jet boat. There are three bench seats with lap blankets folded under the seats.  
  
Louis wouldn't necessarily say it has to be romantic but as the sun starts to set he could see the potential. Not to mention that everything he does with Harry feels like it flirts with romance. Fuck, they ate Kraft macaroni cheese and managed to make it feel like they were on a date.  
  
They choose the bench in the middle because the blankets under it are maroon and Harry thinks they're prettier than the others. Louis shrugs in agreement, not that they'll actually need a blanket. It feels like it's still bordering on one hundred degrees or possibly more. As they settle, two other couples get on board, one younger and one older, neither making eye contact as the go to their respective seats.  
  
"We're a bit underdressed," Louis whispers to Harry when he notices the dresses and button-down shirts around them.  
  
"Really?" Harry smirks, "These are my fanciest swim trunks."  
  
They both look down at where Harry's shorts cut at the middle of his thigh and then simultaneously looking up to Harry's grey tank top with a sewn-on pocket and a black heart. Louis laughs when he sees the gap at the side, and he pokes Harry's exposed nipple.  
  
"I can see your nipple, babe."  
  
Harry sighs, "If we'd found my nipple pasties, I'd be all sorted." Louis laughs so hard he snorts and then hides his face against Harry's chest to avoid from the wandering eyes around them.  
  
There's a brief safety speech from the captain of the boat and then he brings them each a menu to order their glasses of wine before they take off. Louis remembers their canoe ride from earlier in the trip and thinks he prefers this kind of boat ride - pressed tight with Harry, the sky on fire overhead, a chilled glass of white wine in his hand. He leans over and kisses Harry squarely on the lips just before the boat takes off, kissing his cheek before he pulls back. Harry manages to blush under his lips and send Louis's stomach butterflies into a flurry.  
  
The moment the boat takes off from the dock, Louis realizes the intention of the blankets - the breeze seeping straight through their clothes and cooling them off immediately. He hands Harry his wine as he unfurls the one under their seats and spreads it over their legs.  
  
"Thanks," Harry says, handing Louis's wine back. "I didn't see that coming."  
  
"Me neither," Louis laughs, pressing in closer to Harry and pressing the side of his head to Harry's shoulder. He takes a sip of his wine and looks up to the sky, smiling.

  
*

When the boat drops them at the dock again, the sun has disappeared and the stars have all made an appearance. Louis laughs when he sees Harry's hair all messed up and then tries to fix his own when Harry points out it looks like a ruffled bird's nest.  
  
Neither one is all that hurried to find a hotel so they get an outdoor table at another restaurant by the water and order slices of cheesecake. They don't talk about much - just how Louis's sister sent him a recipe for Corn Chowder out of nowhere and Harry hopes his plants survived the summer in the community garden - but neither one of them can stop smiling. Louis's heart feels so much lighter than it did yesterday afternoon when he felt like everything had the potential to make him start crying. He knows that feeling is going to come back, he knows they haven't figured anything out, haven't even addressed if they want to figure things out, but he holds onto this night like starlight hoping it wont fade when he closes his eyes.

  
*

   
  
They do a quick Google search for a hotel and find a reasonable one at the edge of Lake Havasu City. It's called a Lakeview Hilton Inn but as they drive away from the lake, Harry agrees with Louis that a lake view sounds doubtful. There's a green vacancy sign out front which is all they actually care about so they take it happily.  
  
Harry goes in first and Louis follows with their bags just Harry is asking for a room. He stops in the doorway, listening.  
  
"We just need one room for one night," Harry says, not even glancing back at Louis.  
  
"We have a lot of openings," the girl behind the counter says as she looks at the computer. "We have doubles open in all sizes and we have a standard king or queen. Basically whatever combination you want."  
  
Louis swears he doesn't hold his breath though his lungs probably don't agree.  
  
"The one standard king is perfect," Harry says taking out his wallet from his back pocket. He sees Louis then and he pauses, smiling sheepishly at him, clearly curious how much Louis has heard.  
  
Louis feels fizz in his legs as he walks forward, a small smile on his lips. He loops one arm low around Harry's stomach, pressing his palm to his belly over his tank top. He kisses the back of his shoulder as Harry hands over his card to pay for the room. Louis swears he feels the tension leave Harry's body beneath his lips.

  
*

  
  
For once Louis isn't bothered when Harry cranks the air conditioning the moment he enters the room. Especially now when Harry is laying out naked on the bed, goosebumps rising on his shower damp skin as he looks over at Louis.  
  
Louis adjusts his grip on the towel around his waist. Harry showered first and Louis honestly expected him to be asleep by the time he finished but clearly Harry's not interested in sleeping.  
  
"It's too hot for clothes," he says, syrupy slow as his eyes travel over Louis's chest.  
  
Louis swallows, already feeling his skin heating under Harry's eyes. His eyes catch on a familiar bottle of lube and scattering of condoms on the nightstand. Harry has come prepared, tonight. Louis smirks and unceremoniously drops his towel to the ground letting the cool air from the room rush over him. Harry grins and reaches out with grabby hands, Louis can't even pretend to resist.  
  
Once they start, the cool room isn't on their minds as they kiss and explore with teasing touches, biting and licking wherever their tongues touch. Louis opens Harry up almost as slow as last time, circling the tip of his cock with his tongue as he presses his first finger in and then follows with another. Harry stays blissed out with sweat shining on his stomach, his legs kicking sporadically as Louis stretches him.  
  
Louis kisses along his hips and bites the insides of his thighs, smiling when Harry groans loudly. Louis does it again and Harry actually sits up with his angry kitten face in full force, "Do you want this entire to hotel to hear me come or, what?"  
  
Louis laughs and twists his fingers inside of Harry to make his mouth drop open so prettily. "I think that's up to you, not me," Louis says, kissing the tip of his cock and then sucking it between his lips again. Harry yells out as he falls back against the bed again and Louis laughs with his mouth full. It may be the first time he's laughed with someone's dick in his mouth.  
  
"Please, dear god, fuck me," Harry whispers when Louis switches between spreading his fingers and twisting them, his tongue tracing dirty shapes.

  
"We'll get there," Louis says, smirking. He kisses up Harry's belly and then meets his lips, kissing him hard for a few moments until they're both a bit breathless. Harry reaches for a condom wordlessly and hands it over.  
  
Harry's jaw drops open as Louis presses in, still slowly and controlled with his hands on Harry's hips. Louis gets halfway and then stops, laughing when Harry hooks his heels around his thighs and pushes him the rest away.  
  
"Desperate, yeah?" Louis mutters, starting to move slowly.  
  
Harry squirms under him as he adjusts and then he matches Louis's rhythm with slow rolls of his hips. It's a hypnotizing heat between them, electric when they kiss and swallow the sounds they make low in their throats. Harry digs his nails into the meat of Louis's ass and throws his head back in unabashed pleasure and Louis can't get enough of it. He's never been with someone who wears sex the way Harry does. He's flushed head to chest, his lips bitten red and eyes dark, hair a sweat mess. His abs tighten when he rolls his hips, his hands going anywhere he'll let them as Louis fucks into him. Harry wears it on his face too, his pulled together eyebrows and relaxed mouth, the way his eyelashes flutter and each sigh come out shaky when Louis gets him close.  
  
Louis walks him to the edge again and again, speeding his hips only to slow and catch Harry's keening sound in a memory he'll keep.  
  
"Louis," Harry actually yells when Louis pulls out so only his tip is breaching Harry.  
  
"Patience, baby," Louis murmurs as he pushes in again, punching the breath from the bottom of Harry's stomach. "I'm taking care of you."  
  
That somehow sends Harry's eyes rolling back into his head as he writhes on the bed. He reaches for his cock and Louis bats his hand away, his hands tightening on Harry's hips.  
  
"Don't get handsy, darling," he says. "I'll have to tie you up."  
  
He feels rather than sees Harry's reaction as he clenches around him and drops his mouth open again in a silent yell. Louis pauses, Harry's eyes flying open when he does. He smiles shyly as he realizes why Louis stopped.  
  
"Do you -" Louis swallows, "Do you want that?"  
  
Harry licks his lip, "I want to come, baby. That's what I want."  
  
How Harry's words send fireworks behind Louis's ribs, he may never know. Louis rocks his hips slowly, "Hold onto the headboard," he instructs. "How's that?"  
  
He smiles at Harry's shattered breath as he lifts his hands up to the headboard, curling his fingers around the wooden slats.  
  
"Good?" Louis asks, starting to move his hips in teasing circles.  
  
"Uh, yeah," Harry says. He inhales and hollows his belly before exhaling it into a balloon. "I definitely won't last like this."  
  
Louis laughs and runs his hand back through his sweaty hair. "Try your best." He moves on his knees and lifts one of Harry's legs up around his hip to spread him even more. Then he presses in close with his hips and pulls back slowly, testing again. Harry nods adamantly that Louis should continue and Louis smirks.  
  
They catch a new rhythm like this, Harry pulled tight and all on display, his arm muscles flexing up over his head as his fingers twitch against the headboard. He doesn't touch but uses the bed as leverage to fuck himself down, his hip rolls turning filthy. Louis leans forward to bite Harry's lip, pulling it back and then releasing it with another gentle kiss over the top. He drives his hips in and then further again as Harry gasps, his abs clenching. "You close, darling?" Louis asks. "You going to come for me? Without me touching you?"  
  
Harry shakes his head and then starts nodding suddenly as his eyes flutter again. "Yeah, fuck, yeah," he says, seemingly surprised by his own body.  
  
Louis didn't think he'd actually be able to but now that there's a possibility, he feels his own orgasm building even quicker at the base of his stomach. Harry is a wet dream and, here, in this moment, he only belongs to Louis. Louis drops Harry's leg and puts his hands on both of Harry's hips to hold him still as he drives in. He circles his hips until he finds Harry's spot, both of them going silent in the desperation of their lingering release.  
  
"It's -" Harry starts and then he goes quiet again. His hips lift even under the force Louis's hands and he spills all over his stomach, his eyes rolling backward as his back bows. Louis releases his hips to finally get a hand on him, pulling with a firm grip to work Harry fully through his orgasm, watching the way his face tenses and relaxes with each roll of pleasure.  
  
"Keep going," Harry whispers when he opens his eyes. "Come inside me."  
  
Louis doesn't need much more encouragement than that, his hips starting up a steady pace again in eager pursuit of his own orgasm. He feels it like fire, white hot heat collecting until it spills up over the edges and consumes him, his hand resting on Harry's stomach as he starts to feel his favorite kind of tug in his stomach. Offhandedly, he notices Harry's ring still on his finger and then Harry's hand is covering his own, twisting their fingers tight just as Louis's vision blurs and he comes all at once, absolutely losing control.

*

They clean up and get in bed together, pressed tight together everywhere possible with only the sheet over them as their skin still feels fever hot to the touch. Louis turns the television on and Planet Earth comes on first, a documentary about flamingoes. "This okay?" He asks, dropping the controller and yawning.  
  
Harry nuzzles against his neck and Louis isn't sure that he's even awake. "It's like our first night," he says.  
  
It takes Louis a second to remember. "The elephants?"  
  
Harry lifts his head and smiles sleepily. "The elephants."  
  
Louis smiles and kisses him before Harry readjusts back to his comfortable position. Louis traces designs on Harry's arm in silence, remembering that first night. He didn't think this was ever going to be a possibility; at the time he didn't even want it to be.  
  
"It's crazy how much has changed," Harry says quietly.  
  
"Crazy," Louis echoes, swallowing. He runs a gentle hand through Harry's hair and feels his eyelashes starting to flutter as he closes them for sleep.  
  
It's crazy how they started, crazy where they are now. Not for the first night in the past few days, Louis falls asleep with a silent prayer it won't all drop out from underneath him like a pulled out rug.

*

[DAY SIXTEEN](DAY%20SIXTEEN)

Lake Havasu City, Arizona

 

The morning light brings cool relief in the air and they both doze off and on now that they're not sweating. Harry doesn't seem in a hurry to leave after he wakes up and mumbles something about being so tired he can't move before falling into a sleepy doze again.  
  
Louis feels more awake than usual so he gets out of bed and makes sure Harry has a pillow under his head before he sets about figuring out how to use the coffee pot in the corner room. He uses more coffee than it requires in order to make it strong enough for both of him and then he keeps a steady eye on the machine to make sure it doesn't do anything weird, like explode. He doesn't want to have to spend the rest of his life paying for a hotel he burned down.  
  
"Is that coffee?" Harry mumbles from the bed once it's finished brewing and their room smells like a coffee shop.  
  
"Yeah," Louis says, turning over two cups from the holder in the corner. He inspects both for cleanliness before setting them right side up on the counter. "Do you want a cup?"  
  
"Please," Harry murmurs, setting up the pillows around him so he can sit up better.  
  
Louis fills both mugs and then carries them carefully to the bed, handing them to Harry as he retakes his spot next to him. Harry refuses to give the mugs back until Louis kisses him and then, satisfied, he hands Louis his with a smile.  
  
They watch a Friends re-run as they drink their coffee quietly, the morning light sending gentle hazy curves over them. Harry thumbs through the hotel brochure, says he's curious is there is actually a lake view from anywhere in the hotel. "Otherwise, you're suing them for false advertising," Harry says confidently, kissing Louis's shoulder before he goes back to perusing.  
  
"Okay, sweetheart," Louis mutters halfway through catching up on Instagram and not fully listening.  
  
"No lake," Harry declares a moment later. "Liars," he hisses. Louis laughs. "You can rent various sports equipment, though. Skateboards, bikes, roller skates."  
  
"Lovely," Louis says setting his empty mug on the side table. "Do you skateboard?"  
  
Harry smiles, "Do I look like someone who skateboards?"  
  
"All artsy and shit," Louis says motioning vaguely. "I could see it."  
  
Harry laughs, "Yeah, no. I don't. Do you? I remember you said you wanted one for Christmas when everyone else wanted a horse."  
  
"I haven't in ages," Louis says, pulling on his bottom lip and trying to remember the last time he did. "Probably when I was a freshman in college," he says, "Going through the dorm halls."  
  
"Of course you were that guy," Harry says. "I hated that guy."  
  
"That guy," Louis imitates Harry's voice with a roll of his eyes. "Did you abide by quiet hours at all times?"  
  
"I like rules," Harry says lightly. "I like quiet."  
  
Louis sighs, "You're a nerd."  
  
Harry sighs right back at him. "Thanks, punk."  
  
"I'll teach you to skateboard sometime," Louis says, meeting Harry's eyes. It feels more significant than it should be when Harry nods and smiles softly.

"I'd really like that," he says.

*

  
They cross the border to California thirty minutes after they leave the hotel and instead of the impending relief of the end of the trip looming, Louis starts to feel car sick. He rolls down the window quietly and takes a deep breath of the hot, stale, desert air. It does nothing to help him.  
  
"Almost there," Harry says quietly as they pass the sign that says, 'Welcome to California'. Louis thinks he detects a note of sadness in his voice but, as usual, he can't be sure what Harry is actually thinking.  
  
The moment they leave Arizona it seems they both start to itch, a cloud lingering over them they can't quite make their way out of, a bad omen California drapes over them. First, Louis snaps at Harry for passing two gas stations when they need to fill up the tank and then they can't find another one for a few miles which makes them both irritable. At the gas station they do stop at,  Harry buys a yogurt parfait for his breakfast while Louis fills up the car. He eats it while they're on the road and Louis takes a turn driving.  
  
"Tastes funny," Harry mutters. Louis glances over as Harry looks at the expiration date and then immediately starts gagging. Louis veers the car to the nearest shoulder and Harry gets out to throw up, his retching making Louis nauseous.  
  
"What's wrong?" Louis calls out to him, sweat already starting to prick at his neck and back as all of the cool air conditioned air filters out into the desert with the inside of Harry's stomach.  
  
"It's a week past the expiration is what," Harry says over his shoulder, not bothering to hide his frustration.  
  
"That's not my fault." Louis rolls his eyes and crosses his arms  over his chest as Harry wipes off his face and takes a drink of water. He swishes it around his mouth and then spits. He sits at the edge of his seat with his feet outside the car, his head hanging down.  
  
"If you're done, do you want to shut the door?" Louis asks. "It's hot as fuck."  
  
Harry tosses him an angry glare before he gets out of the car altogether, shutting the door on Louis.  Louis doesn't even care as he turns the air conditioning up a bit higher.  
  
"Are you okay?" Louis asks when Harry gets back in the car because he's irritated but not an asshole.  
  
"Fine," Harry mumbles. "My stomach feels funny, still."  
  
Louis adjusts the air and then presses the back of his hand to Harry's forehead and cheek gently. "You're probably getting overheated too," he says quietly. He twists the cap off his water bottle and hands it over to Harry like a peace offering.  
  
"Today's weird," Harry mutters once he thanks Louis.  
  
"Yeah, it is," Louis says as he steers the car back to the highway. He already hates it. 

*

  
Needles, California is disgustingly hot and the air seems to shake under the pressure of the heat. The road continues flat into the horizon and though there are mountains they seem far off and scattered against the rolling desert.  
  
"What are we doing here, H?" Louis asks as he notices the navigation is counting down to a mere few minutes left until their destination. There's nothing for miles around them and he isn't in the mood to be lost. He tries to keep the edge out of his voice.  
  
"There's a sign," Harry says as they curve around a bend. "Right there."  
  
Louis hits the brakes and glances around. "Where?"  
  
"Lower," Harry says with a smile coloring his words.  
  
"Oh fuck, babe, this is what you want to see?" Louis's eyes widen at the Route 66 painted onto the asphalt with thick white lines.  
  
"It's the Route 66 classic," Harry says. "It was a must."  
  
Louis hums, "Debatable." Harry flicks his arm.  
  
They get out of the car and Louis swears he's going to melt into the asphalt as soon as he shuts the door behind him. "Let's make this quick," he says, already heading for the sign. "It's hot and I don't want to be killed by a car. My insides would not be a flattering addition to this sign."  
  
Harry actually giggles as he gets his camera from the back of the car and joins Louis by the painted sign. "Stop being morbid."  
  
Harry takes a few pictures of the sign from above and then he crouches lower. He makes Louis crouch by the sign for a shot and then tries to get a shot of Louis jumping over the sign because, according to him, he's seen it on Instagram. Louis does it twice and then stops declaring the over exertion bad for his wellbeing in the heat.  
  
Louis takes the camera back as Harry takes his turn as the Route 66 model, doing a few of the jumping shots though Louis isn't as quick at getting them and makes him jump nearly twelve times before he gets a decent one. He gets some of Harry kneeling by the sign, a few of Harry looking bored while waiting for Louis's art direction. It's some of Louis best photography work, he'd say.  
  
"Lay down by it," Louis suggests. "Like one of those poster girls, on your side."  
  
Harry laughs and then kneels on the pavement. It's the dumbest thing Louis has ever asked of him as Harry screams and stands back up quickly, the asphalt hotter than the air around them and singing his bare knees.  
  
"Oh fuck," Louis says when he realizes what happened. "That was dumb, I'm so sorry."  
  
"I'm the one who did it," Harry says through gritted teeth. Louis crouches in front of him and touches gingerly at the reddened skin, pulling out a few stray asphalt pieces where they stick to him.  
  
"Does it hurt?" Louis asks.  
  
"No, it's just hot." Harry says, "Stung at first."  
  
Louis brushes his lips just above Harry's knee and stands back up. "You sure?"'  
  
"Yeah," Harry nods and takes the camera back from Louis as they walk to the car. "I don't like today."  
  
Louis nods, the car sick feeling in his stomach rising again even outside of the car. "Understatement," he says.

*

They stop for lunch at a cafe with a huge sign advertising the air conditioning inside. It’s not as though there are that many other options between Needles and the Mojave Desert.

“It’s too fucking hot to eat,” Harry says as he twists his fork through his salad.

Louis has a salad too since it was the only thing that didn’t sound like it would make him sweat and he’s not that enthusiastic about it. “How do people live like this? How are they not miserable all the time?”

Harry shakes his head, “No fucking clue.”

That is pretty much where their lunch conversation ends as they both eat their salads in heavy silence. Louis doesn’t have the energy to keep up a conversation anyway and, by the pout on Harry’s face, he doesn’t either. Before they leave, Harry refills their glasses of water and refuses to leave until they both finish. “I don’t want us to be dehydrated,” he says when Louis rolls his eyes at the demand. “Okay?”

Louis licks his lip and chugs the glass, knowing they’re going to have to stop so he can pee sooner rather than later. Harry’s concern is cute but in the heat of the afternoon, it’s also annoying as hell.

 

*

The Mojave Desert is only an hour more down the road but Louis is pretty sure the Jeep is running on a track without actually moving, like a treadmill, considering the scenery around them hardly changes. The sky gets to be a deeper blue but the desert stays barren, dry and empty all around them.

The first interesting thing they find is a field of purple desert flowers, laying low to the ground with white flowers interspersed between them.

“Can we stop?” Harry asks in a way that doesn’t really sound like a question at all.

“For what?” Louis asks, glancing over. The flowers are pretty but they’re just flowers. He’s pretty sure there will be more wherever they’re going.

“So I can take a fucking picture,” Harry snaps like he’s read Louis’s inner dialogue. “What else would we be stopping for?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Louis says with a roll of his eyes as they pull over to the side of the road.

“Sorry,” he mumbles back, a half chewed apology. 

The car is far too hot to sit in and Louis isn’t interested in wasting gas so he gets out this time, immediately sweating as soon as his feet hit the pavement. Harry is sweating too and by the time Louis gets around the car, he’s fashioned his t-shirt into a crop top, tied up around the center of his stomach. Louis laughs at the sight and it feels like the first time he’s laughed in a couple of hours at least.

“Cute, yeah?” Harry says with a little hip pop as he goes to start taking pictures of the flowers.

Louis leans back against the car with his arms crossed but quickly pulls away from the hot metal against his back. He feels like he’s in an oven, baking away like a tray of cookies. He’d assume the only hope is that he doesn’t end up burnt like a cookie in the end.

For a moment, there’s a breeze that ripples through and Louis holds his arms out to the sides to get the full effect. It’s still warm but he nearly groans at the relief of it. It feels like a turning point as he looks back at Harry taking his photos, camera pressed to his face, a slim line of sweat shining on his lower back where his shirt is pulled up. They’ve been off for a couple of hours but maybe they can get back where they should be, the easy push and pull they always have instead of this butting heads competition they’ve found themselves in.

As soon as Louis thinks it, Harry drops his lens cap and it rolls across the dirt. “Shit,” he says, watching it slip down a small hill.

“I’ll get it,” Louis says, treading carefully between the flowers and into the small embankment. When he grabs the lens, he also grabs four discarded cactus spikes in the tips of his fingers. “Motherfucker,” he says quietly as he starts to pull each one out. They sting and though there are only pinpricks of blood, it’s the kind of wound that feels worse than it looks. He hands back Harry’s lens cover as he shakes out his hand, wincing.

“Can I kiss it better?” Harry asks sweetly.

Again, it would be cute if Louis wasn’t feeling in a terrible mood. So much for his turning point. “Not unless you want to suck my blood, too,” he mutters as he trudges back to the car.

“Oh, kinky,” Harry says lightly before going back to his pictures.

Despite his best efforts, Louis feels the corners of a smile on his face. There’s just something about Harry and it really shouldn’t surprise him anymore. He gets in the car and turns the air conditioning on despite wanting to save gas and leans back in his seat. Harry finally comes back, drenched in sweat and with a scowl as he holds up his hand with matching cactus pokes to Louis’s.

“Dropped my phone,” he says as an explanation as he sulks back into his seat.

Louis shakes his head and puts the car in drive. He’s just going to pray their first three hours in California are not an indication for their relationship in the state as a whole.

 

*

His prayer, it seems, goes unanswered.

They get lost on the way to Mojave Desert National Preserve and end up in a placed called Hayden which is an hour north of where they’re supposed to be.

“We passed it?” Louis asks as Harry examines the map.

“The cell service is shit so the map is taking us some weird way. I don’t -” he doesn’t continue his sentence as Louis plucks the phone from Harry’s hands. “Impatient much?”

Louis ignores him, “Do we need to go to the preserve or will you be happy with just seeing part of desert?”

Harry pushes both hands back through his hair and shrugs. “I really don’t care.”

Louis tosses the phone to Harry and throws the car into a U-turn. “We’re going to the edge of the desert. I’m sure it will be just as exciting as the middle.”

Harry shrugs but doesn’t fight him and it seems like the biggest red flag of the day that perhaps their world is spinning a different axis - the fact Harry doesn’t care about seeing the main event and will settle for an edge.

For what it’s worth, Louis thinks the edge does more than enough for them. There’s a nice sign where [Harry takes a picture](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166241059044/day-sixteen-mojave-desert-california-x-x) and a snack shack type of thing set up on the side of the road with a parking area. Louis buys them both water but isn’t sure he trusts the other perishables being offered. His phone is claiming its one-hundred-and-fifteen degrees and Harry has already puked once today.

They find a picnic bench under a tree pretending to provide shade and sit opposite each other, taking in the desert around them while trying not to melt in the process.

“I do not miss this about Southern California,” Louis laments as his sunglasses slip lower on his sweat damp face. “I feel disgusting.”

“It’s not usually like this in LA, though,” Harry says. He drinks a quarter of his water bottle in one gulp.

“That’s true,” Louis says. “We usually flee before summer actually starts.”

“Escape back to muggy Chicago,” Harry says, half-smiling. “Quite the exchange. I think I like going home for Christmas the most, though. Chicago snow is nice for two quick weeks and then I’m ready to leave it behind for a sunny and seventy January at school.”

Louis nods, agreeing easily. He didn’t choose USC for the weather by any means but it certainly doesn’t hurt.  “Will you drive or fly back for break this year? Now that you have your car.”

Harry raises his eyebrows, “I honestly hadn’t thought about it. It could be fun to go road trip up the west coast and then over.” He presses his lips together and nods, “I definitely want to do that route at some point. Not sure I’m a good mountain driver in December.”

“Don’t look at me,” Louis says putting his hands up. “I know I wouldn’t be. Ice in Chicago is not a problem, ice on a fucking mountain? Might be a different story.”

“Will you go home for Christmas this year?” Harry asks. He rests his chin on his hand as he looks at Louis.

“Yeah,” Louis says and then rubs at his face. “I can’t even look ahead to Christmas right now, though. It’s like the closer we get to school, the more I realize how much is waiting for me there. I know once law school starts, I’ll barely have time to breathe. Christmas will probably come out of nowhere.”

Harry’s back tightens as he sits up straighter but Louis hardly notices.

“That’s why this has been so nice,” he says. “This whole road trip and everything.”

Harry swallows and reaches for his water. He taps it on the table. “Why?”

“It’s like a refresh before school,” Louis says. “I’ll get this all out of my system and then be ready to focus. It’s like a cleanse of mind, body, and spirit.” He swears he says it tongue and cheek but Harry’s jaw tightens and he looks down at the table. Louis swallows and waits for him to look up but he doesn’t.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Louis says just for something to fill the space.

“I know,” Harry says, finally looking up. He doesn’t meet Louis’s eyes but looks out over his shoulder. “Should we go?”

Louis is surprised Harry already wants to move on considering he usually likes to spend an hour when they stop. They’ve only been here for fifteen minutes. “Yeah, sure,” he says, swinging his legs back over the bench to stand. “Where to next?”

“I was thinking we should find some water somewhere,” Harry says, staring straight ahead.

“We have some,” Louis points out with a silly grin. Harry doesn’t so much as smirk.

“I think there’s a wading pool an hour or so north. I saw it on the map when we were lost.”

Louis’s throat feels dry and something tells him it’s not the desert doing it to him. “Let’s do it,” he says.

Harry holds out his hand for the keys and Louis hands them over without a word. Something has just happened between them and he’s not sure what. It feels like there is a wall being built and, though the whole day has felt slightly off, this feels like a storm brewing on the horizon.

 

*

The pool Harry saw on the map is small and overcrowded with desert plants reaching out desperately for a drink. The water looks like it could use a good rain to wash away some of the dust floating and collecting in muddy balls in it. "Interesting," Louis says when they park and walk over to the little pool. It's more like a cesspool than anything he wants to wade in but he has a feeling now isn't the time to point that out to Harry.  
  
"Sorry," Harry says, "There's not a wide selection of lakes in the driest desert in California."  
  
Louis smiles and glances over at Harry, "Thank you for the fun fact thrown in your defense."  
  
Harry barely smiles before he swallows and walks further in toward the pool. Louis sighs and follows after him; clearly they're going to hang around the cesspool for longer than a quick glance.  
  
Admittedly, the air is cooler near the water and when the breeze rolls by it feels slightly more refreshing than out in the desert. It's still no Santa Monica or Venice Beach but if Harry insists on them being outside, Louis takes preference to the water - regardless of how scarce it may be. There are a few rocks scattered around the edge of the water and they sit on two of the biggest, Louis up slightly higher than Harry. Closer, the water isn't as terrible as first glance though it's more of a dull green than any of the lakes they've seen in the past week.  
  
"Do you think anything is living in there?" Louis asks. "Any sea creatures lurking just under the surface waiting to attack?"  
  
Harry glances over his shoulder at Louis and then back to the water. "What a depressing life that would be, to live somewhere so small."  
  
Louis sighs quietly. He's used to Harry ad-libbing off is stupid ideas. Not taking them at face value and leaving it. "Yeah," he agrees. "I guess so."  
  
He studies Harry from the back in the following silence, the tense line of his shoulders and the stiffness in his neck. Louis hates that there are times he can't read Harry - where it's like looking at a canvas but not being able to see the design. There are times he can read Harry with just a look, a subtle glance. He reads Harry best when they're touching, when Harry kisses him softly or grabs his hand out of nowhere. He thinks he can read Harry when he sleeps sometimes, the draw of his eyebrow or pout in his lip. The moments like this, where he can't read anything, have become further and fewer over the last few days but every once in awhile they slip and Harry closes off. Louis shakes his head at the thought. He doesn't have the energy to over analyze Harry right now.  
  
"Is everything okay?" Louis asks when the silence starts to draw on. He's not at the point where he can let Harry sulk in the car for a few hours and not care. He's at the point where he wants to be the one to make Harry happy, make him feel better. Regardless of how unwelcome that preference may be; it's where he is. He can admit that much.  
  
Harry shrugs and then answers. "I'm fine."  
  
"Really?" Louis asks. "The shrug seems to send a different message, babe."  
  
Harry's shoulders tense at _babe_ and that's when Louis really knows something is going on.  
  
"Seriously, Harry. What is it?"  
  
Harry doesn't turn around when he answers with a tight, "Nothing."  
  
Louis eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. "What's going on?" He knows if he keeps poking, keeps asking, it's going to make Harry explode like dynamite. There are times Harry lays his heart out on the line, vulnerable in the best way when he wants Louis to learn more about him. Then there are moments like this. Moments where getting him to open up is like pulling teeth.  
  
"Harry," Louis sighs, "Will you just tell me what the problem is?"  
  
"There's no problem." Harry finally glances over his shoulder and his dark eyes are enough to make Louis sit up a bit straighter.  
  
"Obviously something is wrong. I can tell you’re pissed about something and if you tell me there's nothing wrong one more time, I will actually start screaming." He means it as a joke but it doesn’t land quite right.  
  
Harry twists around to look at him,  "You want to know the problem?"  
  
"Yes," Louis says confidently. He doesn't like Harry's voice but he wants to get whatever this is out in the open.  
  
"The problem is that I like you Louis. That's the fucking problem."  
  
Louis blinks twice, his lips parted. "Why is that a problem?"  
  
Harry scoffs and looks back toward the water but Louis isn't going to let him go softly.  
  
"Uh, no, you don't get to brush me off, Harry. What are you talking about?"  
  
Harry doesn't look back this time when he speaks. "You don't know how I feel about you Louis."  
  
It's like deja vu in a sudden rush as Louis is taken back to the night in Colorado when Harry said the same thing. His mouth is dry as he says, "What?"  
  
Harry half laughs and it's so bitter Louis feels the edges of his heart prick. "You don't like me the way I like you."  
  
"You're kidding," Louis says, amazed. He can't believe this is the conversation they're having. Not when he's been bending backwards to keep from falling for Harry and he's yet to master it.  
  
"No, I'm really not," Harry says, shaking his head with his words. His voice is heavy when he speaks. "I know you don't want a relationship, I get it. You don't like commitment and you've said that since the start but," he swallows, "I guess I'm still the idiot who catches feelings for the guy who doesn't feel the same way."  
  
Louis's eyes feel like they're going to fall out of his head without warning. Harry is saying everything he's ever wanted to hear but the words are dry and half chewed, bitterness lacing through them. "How can you say that?" Louis asks, disbelieving. "How can you not see the way I've been falling for you?"  
  
All this time he thought Harry was pulling away while Harry thought it was Louis turning his back. Louis closes his eyes and rubs at the crease between his eyebrows. "Will you look at me, H? This isn't a conversation I want to have with your back."  
  
"We're not having a conversation," Harry says quietly. "There's nothing to talk about."  
  
Louis almost laughs but it gets stuck in his throat. "You're kidding, right? You told me we shouldn't talk about what we're doing - when we kiss or when we fuck or when we fucking sleep in the same bed - and now you say there's nothing to talk about?"  
  
Harry lifts a shoulder and lets it drop. It's like he's defeated.  
  
"Please look at me," Louis says, voice tight. "Please, Harry."  
  
Harry turns on the rock slowly until he can sit criss-crossed to face Louis fully. His jaw is tight but when he looks up Louis sees everything he knows about Harry lingering in the green of his eyes. The guy he's falling in love with is behind those eyes and that’s the exact moment when Louis knows he’s willing to fight to make him understand how good they can be together. He won’t let Harry slip away into silence.

  
"I really like you, Harry," Louis says. He wants to be louder but his voice is caught in his throat. "More than you probably understand."  
  
"You don't," Harry says, lifting his chin. "Not really."  
  
"How can you even say that?" Louis tries to keep the frustration out of his voice but he's not sure it works.  
  
"You don't actually know me," Harry says with a shrug. "You know me on a vacation but not in the real world. It’s like a honeymoon phase."  
  
Louis presses his hands to his own cheeks and then drops them, frustration bubbling under his lungs. "Why do you get to say you like me but when I do the same, you decide I must be lying?"  
  
Harry clenches his jaw and looks away.  
  
"No," Louis says far too loudly. He quiets his voice. "We're not doing this thing where we have half a conversation and it stops. I'm sick of it, Harry. I'm trying to give you my heart and you just keep handing it back like it's a piece of trash."  
  
"Stop saying stuff like that," Harry says. When he looks back there's hurt in his eyes and Louis has to glance away. "Please."  
  
"Why? Because it's true?" Louis lifts his jaw higher. "Is it that hard to believe?"  
  
"Does it even matter?" Harry retaliates with a question. "Regardless of how we feel, we could never make this work. It works right now because we're living in a bubble. It would never work when we actually get to campus."  
  
The bubble. Louis's favorite thing about this trip has been the way they've gotten to know each other uninterrupted in the _bubble_.  "You realize that's not a valid excuse right? Just because we're doing fun things together doesn't mean I haven't gotten to know all the other boring things about you too."

Harry raises his eyebrows, clearly doubtful. 

Louis shakes his head and rubs his eyes. He can tell Harry wants to run but he won't let him. "Stuff like the way you snore when you're the most tired, how you look grumpy when you wake up even if you're not, the way you talk with food in your mouth, and take fries off my plate without asking. You drive with two hands when you're nervous about something or pissed at me, and you always squish water bottles when you finish drinking from them. Your fingers twitch when you talk and you twist your rings when you don’t know how to say something."

  
Louis's mind is quick firing at him and he can't get his mouth to stop spitting it all out. Harry won't even look at him, his eyes stuck on the boulder space between them.  
  
"You have a freckle under your ear and a scar on your knee, you eat tongue first and you sleep on the left side of the bed even when you sleep alone. You close your eyes when you look at the stars like you're making a wish and you hold my hand like it's your favorite thing to do. You always wear printed socks and you don't like when I put my feet on the dashboard. You have a habit of wiggling your nose before you sneeze and when we're in bed, I always tuck your feet between my ankles because I know they get cold."

Louis takes a deep breath and it feels shuddering in his lungs.  "I know the big things Harry - like your sense of humor and how smart you are, how fucking stubborn you can be, how to push all of your buttons, even the not so good ones. But I know a lot of the little stuff too." He swallows, "There's no way you can tell me that doesn't matter."  
  
He feels raw and exposed like he's just put everything he has on the line. It’s only been two weeks but it may as well have been two months. Getting to know Harry on the road has been getting to see the good parts and the bad parts exactly as they are without any hiding. The only thing they’ve been able to hide is they way they feel about each other and even now, spilling out, it’s as messy and convoluted as every other part of the last two weeks has been. Louis doesn’t want it any other way - the truth is that he doesn’t want anything other than for Harry to be his.

His heart plummets when Harry scrambles to his feet and walks right past him without slowing down. Louis presses his forehead to his knees and wills himself to not get emotional. He thought he knew how this would play out when Harry started the conversation by saying he liked him but this isn't it. This isn't it at all.  
  
The thing about being in the desert is there's nowhere to run, though. So when Louis stands up to go after Harry, he’s already right behind him, his arms crossed and face braced for a fight. "Why do you say stuff like that?" He asks, defiant.  
  
"Like what?" This time the defeat rings in Louis's voice as he dusts his palms on the front of his shorts.  
  
"All that stuff," Harry waves his hand around. “All the stuff you like about me.”  
  
"Because I mean it," Louis says. He lifts his hands up and lets them drop again because he doesn’t know what else to do with them. "I mean it all."  
  
Harry blinks and drops his hands from his chest, opening his body to Louis. "But why? You told me this trip was like a cleanse an hour ago. You said you were getting this all out of your system."  
  
Louis's eyes narrow as he shakes his head, not following. "Yeah, a cleanse of having a good time before school starts. What does that have anything to do with you?"  
  
Harry sniffs and looks away. Louis's mind races through possibilities until Harry looks at him again. "You can understand why it would offensive to be called a cleanse, right?"  
  
Louis actually laughs this time. "You thought I meant you?"  
  
Harry stares at him. "Didn't you?"  
  
"Of course not," Louis says quickly. The pieces all slip together - the way Harry had tensed at his words at the picnic table.  "I didn't mean you, H. I want,” he runs his hands through his hair, desperate for words he can’t make come. “I want you under my nails and in the spaces between my ribs, Harry. Don't you get that yet?"  
  
Harry sniffs again and Louis finally sees it's because his eyes keep filling until he blinks the wetness away. Just seeing it makes Louis's throat hurt.  
  
"What about in a month when law school starts and you'll be so busy you can't breathe? Will you want me then?"  
  
Louis throws his hands up. Everytime he thinks he’s getting Harry to understand him, Harry digs out some other side comment to throw back at him. Louis refuses to give up. Not yet.  "Fuck, Harry, why are you pushing me away? Why do you keep doing this?"  
  
"Doing what?" Harry raises his voice to match Louis's.  
  
"Throwing out these fucking excuses. You'll do whatever it takes to not believe what I'm telling you."  
  
Harry swallows and shakes his head. Silence lingers and Louis doesn't think he's going so say anything else. And, then, he does.

"I want to believe you, trust me. I started falling for you on day fucking three of this trip.” He licks his bottom lip quickly and raises his eyebrows, “I couldn’t decide if I hated you or wanted to kiss you, honestly.”

Louis wants to laugh but he just straightens his shoulders instead. For the first time in this conversation, Harry might actually say something he means.

“I knew I couldn’t,” Harry says, his face settling back to determination. “You told me yourself you weren’t planning to fall in love, you said you don’t like relationships, you said not committing is easy. You were clear from the beginning and then you kissed me in Colorado. And I knew right then I didn’t stand a chance.” He lifts his head and stares right into Louis’s eyes. “I couldn’t help myself even when I tried. Every time I pulled away, I fell right back into you like quicksand. I couldn’t stop. But now I have to. I can't be the one left behind this time.   
  
Like a montage in a hazy memory, Louis remembers all the times Harry has pulled away from him, the funny look in his eyes when Louis would talk about his romantic past, the way he woke up in the middle of the night after they first had sex and physically pulled himself from Louis's arms. He didn't want to talk to Louis about what they were doing because then he didn't have to admit anything, not because he didn't care.  
  
"You can't just decide to stop, Harry," Louis says, shaking his head slowly. His heart is so heavy in his chest, he can feel each beat. "You can't stop a feeling like this, you don't just turn it off like the fucking faucet. I can't, at least."  
  
Harry takes a step closer for the first time. "Louis, I have to look out for myself. I've been here before."  
  
"You haven't," Louis says. "Not like this. I know because I haven't either. This is all uncharted territory but I want you. Everything else can fade away, school can start, the weather can change but this won't. I want you," he says, looking right into Harry's eyes. "I want you."  
  
Harry rubs his lips together but won't look into Louis's eyes. Louis feels him slipping away even standing right in front of him. Without thinking he reaches out for Harry's hand and holds it in his. He expects Harry to pull away but he doesn't. Instead, he squeezes.  
  
"I don't want to get my heartbroken," he says and his voice is choked. "I don't," he swallows hard over what else he wants to say. "But I don't know how to do this right. I don't know how to let myself love you."  
  
Louis understands it all in a rush. When Harry says he's looking out for himself it's because he doesn't think anyone else will. He's scared of being left behind but, more than that, he's scared of losing Louis. No one has ever fought for him but the way he's holding onto Louis's hand like it's the one thing he knows in the midst of all this confusion gives Louis all the confidence he needs.  
  
"Let's try," Louis says. He steps closer so the toes of their shoes kiss on the dusty ground. "Let me be the one who changes your mind about all of that. I know you've been hurt, I get it. So have I. Everyone has. We can't live under those scars, though. Not when there's something as good as you and me staring right at us. We can't run away from this."  
  
"I don't want to," Harry says just as a tear slips over the edge of his eye and down his cheek. He wipes it away with his free hand but doesn't let go of Louis. "I don't want this to end."  
  
"Let me be yours, then." Louis smiles over the knot in his throat. "Be mine and I'll be yours. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved and we'll figure this out together." Louis watches as two more tears slip out of Harry's eyes and onto his cheeks. He's shocked when Harry reaches up and uses the back of his finger to wipe away the tear under Louis's eyes. He hadn't even realized he was crying. They both laugh and the sound bubbles out before it fades.

“Do you remember what I said when we were in New Mexico? When you asked me what it would take to commit to someone?”

“You said you would tell them when you liked them,” Harry says with a nod. “When you thought they were worth the potential heartbreak in the end. You said you’d tell them.”

“This is me telling you,” Louis says quietly just before he kisses Harry. Their kiss is saltwater and sweat, a smile against swollen lips and a broken sigh of raw emotion. It’s perfect.

"This is so stupid," Harry whispers right against Louis’s mouth and Louis laughs out loud, his heart cracking through a hardened weight.  
  
"It is," Louis says. He presses to fingers to Harry's cheek and runs the course of the half-dried tears, wiping them away completely. "But we don't do anything easily, do we?"  
  
Harry smiles and sniffs again. "No, not really."  
  
"Maybe we can work on that?" Louis says, "Put it on our to do list?"  
  
Harry laughs and it shatters the sadness in his eyes completely as he pulls himself close to Louis and presses his face to his neck. Louis wraps his arms low around Harry's back to hold him, pressing them tight together even in the stifling heat.  
  
He feels exhausted and wrung out, like he's standing out on the edge of a cliff with Harry in his arms.  It's a terrifying feeling that curls in his bones, all of the potential they have in front of them. All the ways they might hurt each other in the future without even knowing it in this moment. But he knows they have to take the leap anyway, he knows they have to try. They might fall off the edge of the cliff and crash in a grand fashion but maybe not. God only knows, but, maybe,  they'll end up flying.

*

"And you know I hate when you put your feet on the dashboard but you do it anyway. You also like when I blush so you say things to make it happen on purpose."  
  
Louis throws his head back laughing and he feels Harry's laughter right against his stomach. "That is true. I do like to make you blush, babe."  
  
Harry walks his fingers over Louis's bare hip and then flattens his palm. "You also steal my vanilla body wash in the shower."  
  
Louis had been running his fingers through Harry's hair where his head lays on Louis's chest but now, he pauses. "How do you know that?"  
  
Harry turns so he's looking at Louis and smirks. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"I put a line on it when we were in New Mexico and checked the level after you showered."  
  
Louis lets his jaw drop open. "No you didn't."  
  
Harry smiles without showing his teeth and nods.  
  
"You little shit," Louis laughs as he tries to tickle Harry which means they both end up flailing around on the bed, whipping all the bedding into a fluffy mess.  
  
Louis has no idea what city they are even in but after the cesspool and the rollercoaster of their afternoon, they decided to check into the first hotel they found and spend the evening together. Harry turned the air conditioning to arctic levels and they stripped down to their boxers to lay in bed and watch television. They talked quietly until their conversation eventually circled back to the things they'd talked about earlier in the afternoon and Harry insisted he wanted his chance to air all of his grievances about Louis's habits and tendencies. "You did it to me," he said as he curled into Louis and put his head right over Louis's heart.  
  
Louis hadn't expected his heart to feel like it would burst in his chest even as Harry made fun of him for not wearing socks with his shoes, and hiding smiles against the inside of his wrist when he thinks Harry isn't watching.  
  
"You also tickle me far too much," Harry says seriously once Louis has him pinned to the bed, his fingers tracing the curve of his waist.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says, pinching the fullness of Harry's hips. He laughs when Harry squawks. "I love when you do that, though. You sound like a seagull."  
  
"No, no, no," Harry says, sitting up and pushing Louis back against the pillows. He points at him. "This is my chance to talk shit, not yours."  
  
Louis crosses his arms, "Okay, fine. What else you got for me, baby?"  
  
Harry shakes his head with wide eyes. "See, you do that shit and I can't take it."  
  
Louis laughs and throws his hands up, "What are you even talking about?"  
  
"You sit there looking all hot without a shirt on and all your tattoos on display and then you say, 'What else you got for me, baby?" in this scratchy voice and it's not fair."  
  
Louis rubs his hands over his face and smiles so hard his cheeks hurt. "Do you have an idea for how I should go about fixing that? You know I like to play fair."  
  
Harry hums and crawls over to Louis slowly like a panther on the prowl. "I'll think about it," he says as he crawls into Louis's lap and puts his knees on either side of his hips the way he always does. "I'll write you an email when I figure it out."  
  
"Thanks, darling," Louis says, pressing kisses all along the bottom of Harry's neck. "What should we do until then?"  
  
Harry shrugs and his lips turn up into half of a smile, "You could kiss me."  
  
There are few things Louis would rather do as he tilts his head up to meet Harry's mouth with his lips.

*

They decide to order room service for dinner when they're both sweaty and sated, Harry tracing circles on Louis's bare back as they lay on top of the bed.  
  
"I want a hamburger," Harry says as he flips through the menu lazily. "And I want onion rings. And, it's not on the menu, but I want a chocolate milkshake."  
  
"Do they even have ice cream here?" Louis asks as he picks up the phone to dial. "It's like the devil's asshole out there." Harry cackles just as the concierge picks up and Louis reaches around to pinch his nipple to get him to shut up.  
  
They do have ice cream in the middle of the desert, it turns out, so they eat burgers, onion rings , and chocolate milkshakes wearing only their boxers on the bed. There's a Will & Grace marathon on TV while they eat and once their dishes are cleared they lay together and watch Grease because it's what's on next and neither one of them feels like actually finding the remote.  
  
Louis feels the most comfortable when he's like this, wrapped in Harry's arms with the light of the television dancing over them in bed. He kisses Harry's jaw just thinking of it and then presses himself in a bit closer. He knows they'll start sweating soon and end up on opposite ends of the bed but he'll take what he can get while he can.  
  
He tries to imagine Harry in his bed, in his apartment. Harry in his kitchen wearing only his boxers, Harry napping on his couch, Harry using his own key to let himself into the apartment when Louis has a late class. Harry keeping a drawer of clothes at Louis’s, a toothbrush for when he stays over.  He curls his toes at the thought.  
  
"What?" Harry asks, "What are you smiling about?"  
  
Louis hadn't even realized he was smiling or that Harry was watching him. He pulls back so he can see Harry's eyes. "Would you believe me if I said I was imagining you taking a nap on my couch?"  
  
Harry laughs and bites his lip. "It's not the strangest thing you've ever said, so yeah, I believe you."  
  
"Wait until I'm running on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee. Things are going to get super strange."  
  
"Good," Harry says, kisses the arch of Louis's eyebrow. "I can't wait."  
  
"Yeah?" Louis smiles softly, "You won't run away screaming?"  
  
"I'll get you back," Harry says easily. "You'll be nothing compared to me studying for an art history exam when I recite all of the facts out loud because I'm an auditory learner."  
  
"No problem," Louis says smugly. "I'm telling you, I want it all."  
  
"Except when I throw up, right? Because I swear to god you were about to push me out of the car this morning."  
  
Louis laughs and circles his hand in a gentle circle on Harry's belly. "I already apologized for that. We were both in shitty moods. Next time you puke, I'll hold your hair back for you and flush the toilet so you don't have to stare at it when you're done."  
  
Harry groans, "You're making me nauseous."  
  
"Nah, baby, that's romance. Puke and toilets. You get it all with me."  
  
"My prince charming," Harry whispers just before he kisses Louis right on the mouth. "Lucky me."

*


	9. Day 17 & 18

[DAY SEVENTEEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166255559274/day-seventeen-antique-shopping-oro-grande)

Baker, California

 

It’s just after lunch when Louis pulls the car off in Oro Grande and the street lined with antique shops Harry has picked out for them to visit. It's the last thing on Harry’s written itinerary he made months ago; back before either of them knew what fate had in store. The next stop is straight through to Los Angeles but they've already decided to stay in the San Gabriel mountains for tonight, not ready to finish their road trip quite yet.  
  
"Ready?" Louis asks once he turns off the car.  
  
"I'm feeling a little sentimental right now," Harry says as he puts his itinerary back in the glove box for the last time. He takes a deep breath. "The Harry who planned this road trip, and decided his grand finale would be antique shopping, had no idea what was in store for him."  
  
Louis smiles, laughter huffing quietly. "He didn't anticipate a partner in crime like me, did he?"  
  
"Definitely not," Harry says. His lips twitch, "But sometimes you don't know what's good for you until it happens."  
  
"Until Niall Horan happens," Louis corrects as he turns the handle on his door to open it.  
  
"God bless Niall," Harry says. "Will he be in Chicago at Christmas? I can't wait to see him."  
  
Louis pauses as he gets out of the car but only for a moment. He and Harry will both be home in Chicago for Christmas this year, they'll probably meet each other's families and give each other Christmas gifts on a cold, snowy night with rainbow lights reflecting off of the houses around them. They'll hang out with Niall in River North and go to the Christmas tree lighting on the river. If all goes the way it should, Harry will be his New Year's kiss. He can hardly wait.  
  
"Yeah," he says as he lets his feet drop to the pavement. "He'll be home."

  
*

  
They wander through a few antique shops but their mutual favorite is Weathered and Treasured on the furthest corner. There's an old record player with dusty vinyls stacked all around it, vintage clothes in perfect condition, retro furniture and stacks of old books with other people's notes in them.  
  
Harry finds an arm full of records he wants, a few worn copies of classic novels and a jean jacket with a rainbow patch over the heart and his birth year embroidered on the sleeve. He puts it on and looks like a rock star, because of course he does. Louis even takes a picture of him pretending to model and laughs loudly when all of the older ladies in the store coo over Harry like he's Mick Jagger.  
  
Louis doesn't find anything he can't live without except when they're leaving and he sees a necklace hanging from the knob of an old dresser. He barely catches a full glance at it but he knows it's perfect.  
  
"Baby," he catches Harry around the hips, "I forgot my phone in the dressing room. Meet you at the car?"  
  
Harry nods and adjusts a ridiculous pair of white sunglasses he found at the last minute when he was paying. They look like Willy Wonka but he still looks hot. It's all sorts of stupid.  
  
Louis waits until Harry is far enough away and then he swipes the necklace up, the little vintage key worn and weathered on a thin chain. It's exactly what he didn't know he was looking for. He pays and quickly puts it in his pocket, jogging out to meet Harry at the car and waving around his phone for good measure. He's an excellent actor, if he does say so himself.

  
*

They take the long way to the San Gabriel mountains now that they're close enough to the coast they can practically taste it. Everything past Oro Grande and closer to San Gabriel is lush and green, rivers breaking through forested areas and streaming next to the highways. When they see signs for a [historic waterfall,](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166255684234/day-seventeen-san-gabriel-mountains-california-x) the take the exit shrouded by trees with hardly a second glance at each other.  
  
"You have to hike to the waterfall," Harry announces once they've parked and he's looked up where they are on his phone. "It's a mile in and a mile out. How long will that take?"  
  
Louis smiles and unhooks his seatbelt. "Does it matter? I'm not in a hurry, are you?" Harry's smile fills the entire car with warmth, Louis isn't even exaggerating a little bit.  
  
They change into more hiking appropriate clothes and then set off for the waterfall with Harry's camera, two water bottles and packs of trail mix all in tow. Louis screams when he sees a garter snake which makes Harry fold in half laughing and they both get a little preemptively itchy when they see there are signs warning of poison ivy just off the edges of the path.  
  
The waterfall is breathtaking when they get to it, pouring off of a cliff and into a basin below with wildflowers and trees all reaching out to touch the water with gentle vines.  Harry shows Louis the pictures he takes, the way he uses a setting on his camera to blur the water so it looks like smoke.  
  
When a group of girls stop just across from them to admire the waterfall, too, Harry asks if one of them will take a picture of him and Louis. They press close together with their arms around each other and wide smiles on their faces as one girl uses Harry's camera for the shot. It's the first picture they've taken together on the trip and Louis figures it's fitting that it will be one of the last. Who knew the grandest finale would be them getting together on Route 66? Certainly not them.  

Harry must be thinking the same thing as he takes the camera back with a gracious smile. He tips Louis's chin up with two fingers to kiss him before they head off back toward the car.

 

*

 

"Is that rain?"  
  
"Unless god is spitting on us, I think it is," Louis says, rolling up his window. He'd noticed the temperature dropping as they got closer to the mountains, a full seventy degrees cooler than the desert which is utterly ridiculous but not unwelcome.  
  
"I love when it rains," Harry says excitedly, pulling the car into a visitor spot at the lodge they found for the night. He's so excited by the rain he volunteers to go into the front desk to see if they have a cabin available for the night. He's wearing the bright pink crewneck sweatshirt he's so fond of which makes it even funnier when he comes back out holding the key to a cabin and does a little dance in front of the car, the rain getting steadier.  
  
"That's kind of a lot of rain," he says as he ducks back in the car, his hair already damp. He shivers and shimmies his shoulders to warm up. "Yikes."  
  
"Don't catch pneumonia on me," Louis says as he grabs for Harry's hands. He warms them up between his own and kisses Harry's fingertips.  
  
They get a bit lost when they drive to the cabin they've rented and end up bickering back and forth before they realize they've stopped right in front of it in the process of a light hearted name calling competition.  
  
As they unload the car, it gets steadily colder and they rush into the small cabin in a hurry, rain licking at them in the process. They lock the door once they’re inside and flip on all of the lights as they drop their bags. The cabin is more of a studio than a house with a bed, small kitchen and living room all joined in one space. It's completely cozy and the rain doesn't seem so bad after all.  
  
The kitchen is fully stocked so Louis takes a chance on making some pasta for dinner while Harry messes around with the fireplace in the center of the room. "Twenty four hours ago, a fireplace would have killed us," he muses happily as he plays with all of the buttons to get it lit.  
  
Louis's pasta is simple with ground turkey marinara over penne noodles but he doesn't feel too inclined to figure out anything else. Harry has the fire going by the time he's nearly done cooking, the warmth filling the cabin quickly and comfortably.  
  
Harry finds a bottle of red wine he says he hopes is complimentary and pours them two glasses with a smile. Louis puts their dinner on plates and pauses when he glances at the fireplace. Harry has dismantled the bed and reassembled it in front of the fire like a nest with pillows and cushions from the couch making up the parameter. Louis leans over to kiss his cheek just because he can and then they make their way to the blanket nest with their pasta and wine.  
  
"Should we toast?" Harry asks once they’re settled across from each other, their plates between them on the blankets.  
  
"Of course," Louis says, picking up his glass of wine. "You have an idea?"  
  
"Cheer to taking chances," Harry starts, "and cheers to the weather god for the rain."  
  
Louis snorts over his laughter and rolls his eyes. "Cheers to Route 66."  
  
"And every other highway we had to take to get here," Harry adds on.  
  
"Both literally and metaphorically," Louis says as they clink their glasses together in the dancing light from the fire.

*

 

“I like that you wear my ring,” Harry says once they’ve mostly finished eating. He takes his last bite and smiles with his lips pressed together.

Louis is used to it now, the ring on his middle finger. “Why’s that?” He asks with a smirk, always wanting Harry to say what he actually means.

Harry shrugs and takes a sip of wine. “I don’t know, really. Just makes me happy.”

Louis smiles, “Yeah?”

“At first, it made it feel like you were mine,” Harry says without hesitation. “And when I didn’t think that was actually going to happen, I liked to pretend.”

Louis laughs and tilts forward to kiss Harry, long and slow with the fire dancing next to them. “I have something for you,” he says as he pulls back.

He hands Harry his glass and then pushes up out of their nest to get to his bag. He finds the jeans he’d worn earlier and the necklace he bought at the vintage store. It’s all tangled and knotted because he’d shoved it in his pocket of all places so he takes a moment to try and get it all righted again.

“The anticipation might actually kill me,” Harry calls from across the room.

Louis snorts as his fingers twist through the chain. “You’ll be fine. Just give me a second.”

Harry hums a song that sounds suspiciously like it came from a game show and Louis just rolls his eyes over his smile.

He crosses back to Harry slowly, the necklace twisted in his hand. He’s never done something like this before and he feels a little dumb about it. He would prefer for Harry to grab it out of his hand and accept it without explanation but considering he’s not a five year old kid at a birthday party, Louis doesn’t think that’s what will be happening.

Harry has moved their plates over to one side but still has the wine glasses in his hand. He smiles sweetly as Louis sits down, his face open with anticipation.

“I got you this,” Louis says lamely, opening his palm. “I know you always wear your cross and I thought they might go together nicely.”

Harry glances at Louis’s face and then takes the key from Louis’s hand carefully, swallowing. “I love this,” he says, holding it up closer to look at it. “It's vintage, yeah? It feels like something that has a story. A secret history.”

Louis hadn’t really thought about it like that and now he feels a bit foolish. Of course Harry would love it for the story it has tied to it, the way it exists in someone else’s memory as something special. Now the past is tied to their future, the story they’ll tell about a key necklace Louis found in an antique store.

Louis swallows as Harry puts it on, arranging the chain to hang over his sweatshirt which looks silly but Louis kind of likes it. He gets what Harry was saying about the ring now – the way it feels to see the person he’s falling in love with wearing something he’s given him. The butterflies lift off from his stomach and head straight for his lungs.

“Why did you pick out a key?” Harry asks curiously, fingering the curves of the necklace.

“I liked it because it was vintage, honestly,” Louis says. “But now that you’re wearing it?”

Harry raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“You’re going to cringe,” Louis warns. “I’m cringing just thinking about saying it.”

Harry laughs and his dimple curves in. He finishes the rest of his wine in a sip. “Tell me.”

Louis sighs and feels like an eighth grader admitting his crush. “You’re the one with the key to my heart. The only one.” He immediately blushes when he says it. He’s not the guy who says shit like that but Harry has him doing it anyway, meaning it, too.

Harry’s eyes actually tear up at Louis’s words and then he’s launching his body across their makeshift nest and Louis is falling back against the soft cushions and blankets while trying not to spill his wine.

“That was such a nice thing to say,” Harry says, blinking quickly.

“You are so easy,” Louis teases as he sets his glass to the side. “One necklace and you’re tackling me?”

“You said I have the key to your heart,” Harry says incredulously. “That at least gets you a blow job.”

Louis cackles with his eyes squeezed shut as Harry kisses along his jaw.  “I’ve never said that to anyone else before, for the record.”

Harry pauses in his kisses and looks up at Louis again. He blinks slowly, a smile slipping over his pink mouth. “Is it crazy to feel like this? I’ve only known you for two weeks.”

“Seventeen days,” Louis says with a crazy smile. “And the brief time I stole your pencil in Marine Biology.”

Harry grins, “Yes. Seventeen days plus two minutes.”

Louis laughs and runs his hands up Harry’s back. He loves Harry’s weight on him like this, the way he presses down against him and wraps him up with long legs. “It is crazy,” Louis finally answers Harry’s question. “But it feels right, doesn’t it?”

Harry smiles slowly, “Feels as natural as breathing.”

This time Louis kisses him first, smiling right up against his mouth. There’s nowhere else he wants to be. No one else he wants to be with.

 

*

 

Harry takes Louis’s clothes off slowly, each inch of skin pressed with a kiss until he’s down to just his boxers and one sock that got overlooked in the process. Louis repays him in the same manner, licking over his skin and tattoos once he pulls his sweatshirt off, biting along the inside of his thigh as he removes his shorts, kissing the bone of his ankle as he throws his dinosaur socks somewhere over his shoulder.

He pauses as he sets Harry’s feet back on the blanket, gazing back up his body. Harry is smirking like he knows what he looks like in the light of fire, propped up on a cushion with the necklace Louis gave him pressed to his bare skin. He wiggles his eyebrows when Louis meets his eyes and Louis shakes his head at him.

They go slow from there as Louis crawls over Harry and settles low on his hips, hands roaming up over Harry’s shoulders and down the sides of his arms. He twists their fingers together when the kiss, holding on tight to Harry’s hands as he opens his mouth to his tongue. Harry’s back arches as Louis lifts their joined hands up by Harry’s shoulders, a soft moan slipping from his lips. Louis pulls back to watch between their bodies as he rolls his hips down against Harry’s and smiles at the sound he makes – much like the first but lower.

Harry takes control from Louis and rolls him onto his back without disconnecting their lips. He drags his hips low and tight so Louis can feel how hard he already is against his thigh. Louis drops his head back and exposes his neck to Harry’s mouth as he feels champagne bubbles in his blood, coursing under his heart and through all of his bones. Harry looks like sin, the way he kisses a trail down Louis’s stomach and licks the thin hair disappearing into the waistband of his boxers. Louis tries to be helpful as Harry pulls his boxers off but they both end up laughing when Louis’s hip thrust meets Harry's face as he leans down.

“You just slapped me with your dick,” Harry says, playing offended. He takes Louis’s cock in his hand the next moment and licks the tip with his wide tongue. If it’s payback, Louis doesn’t mind.

Harry has a ridiculous mouth and Louis loves when Harry uses it like this, tightening his lips and lathing his tongue, his fingers gripping onto Louis’s hips. He goes slow but he’s more than thorough and Louis swears he’s losing feelings in his extremities as Harry works him over. He pops off when Louis thrusts into his mouth and smiles.

“Let me ride you.”

“Is that a question?” Louis asks as he pulls himself up to his elbows and looks at Harry through sex hazy eyes.

“No,” Harry says. “It really wasn’t.”

Louis watches from the floor as Harry goes in search of a condom and a bottle of lube and then he starts laughing as Harry dumps his entire bag out in the process. It’s not the most organized method of searching but it does the trick as he finds what he's looking for with a happy shriek a moment later.

Harry starts to open himself up but he can’t quite get the angle right so Louis takes over happily. He knows how to twist his fingers now, what makes Harry shiver and what makes him roll his hips languidly in Louis’s lap. He kisses Harry’s chin and then his neck at the angle, curving down to kiss his new necklace when he catches it out of the corner of his gaze. He loves how he’s the only one who gets to see Harry like this, the only one who can make him feel like this, the only one who gets him every possible way.

“Ready, baby?” Louis asks when Harry is all but falling apart on top of him, each moan connected to a quieter whine.

“Need you,” Harry says in the middle of kissing Louis. It’s so simple and easy but it makes Louis’s heart beat a little faster in his chest. Hearing Harry say stuff like that is so much sweeter than before because this time Louis can smile against his mouth and say, “Need you, too, darling,” without worrying that he’s said to much.

Harry goes slow as he puts the condom on Louis and then sinks down, his abs clenching and his eyebrows pulled together until he finally settles. It’s different than the way they’ve done it before so it takes longer to get the rhythm, a few misplaced limbs and teeth knocking together until they find it. When they do, it’s like fire, both of them sweating and roaming each other’s bodies with greedy hands, swallowing moans and whispers like they are secrets just for them.

Harry gets close fast, his cock rubbing against Louis’s stomach together where they’re pressed together, his fingers digging into Louis’s shoulders. “Close,” he whispers as Louis starts to hold his hips and thrust up into him, knowing exactly how to move to make Harry cry out.

“Know you are,” Louis says softly, his breath coming out in a staccato rhythm. “Want you to come like this,” he says. “Don’t touch.”

Harry groans lowly but starts to move his hips again, arms twisting tighter around Louis to hold himself together. Louis let’s his hands roam over Harry’s back, digging his nails in gentle lines and then squeezing the curve of Harry’s ass and slapping lightly to make Harry groan against his neck.

“Come on, darling,” Louis whispers right into his sweaty hair. “Let go.”

Harry orgasms with his entire body, their skin sliding together as he shakes apart in Louis’s arms, his mouth opened against Louis’s neck, and his back rigid. He relaxes all at once, like jelly poured out of a jar and Louis holds him through it, pressing sweet kisses along the tops of his shoulders.

Ever one to please, Harry regains his composure enough to roll over and take Louis with him. He spreads his legs out to the side and manages to smile slyly as Louis slowly understands what he wants. Louis kisses him as he starts to drive inside Harry all over again. The kisses dissolve to nothing more than breathless panting as the champagne bubbles in Louis’s blood collect all at once and he comes with a soft groan, Harry kissing him all the way through it.

“Can’t wait to do that every day,” Harry whispers, later, when they’re naked with no lights except for the fire, their skin soft and clean from the shower they shared.

“Every day?” Louis raises his eyebrows though Harry can’t see him with his head pressed to Louis’s chest. “Won’t you get sore?”

“Figured we can take turns,” Harry says. He looks up, “Right? You’re into that?”

Louis kisses his eyebrow and smiles. “If you’re asking me if I’ll let you fuck me the answer is yes.”

“Yes,” Harry hisses as he lies back down. Louis can feel his smile over his heart.

“You’re so weird.”

“So are you,” Harry whispers like it’s a compliment.

“Thanks,” Louis says, smiling.

“I keep thinking,” Harry says after a quiet moment, “About what it’s going to be like when we do boring stuff. Like go grocery shopping or study together. Or do laundry.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. He draws a heart on Louis’s stomach. “I’m really excited about it. Isn’t that bizarre?”

Louis laughs lightly, “I don’t know. We’ve known each other two weeks –“

“Seventeen days,” Harry interrupts.

“Seventeen days,” Louis amends. “But we’ve already gone on the vacation people take when they get like, engaged or something.”

Harry smiles. “Technically we were celebrating our five year anniversary in New Mexico.”

“And our honeymoon in Arizona,” Louis laughs, pressing the ring on his middle finger against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry laughs and it shakes his whole body as he kisses Louis’s rib cage. “We’ve done a lot.”

“What I mean is that I’m looking forward to the boring stuff, too,” Louis says. “I have a feeling it’s not going to be that boring anyway.”

“Not with our track record,” Harry says but he sounds like he’s still smiling.

Louis holds his breath and nearly says, _I love you,_ but swallows the words. It’s only been seventeen days – he can at least wait until they get to twenty. Maybe.

 

[DAY EIGHTEEN](https://harry-is-on-route-66.tumblr.com/post/166291732924/day-eighteen-home-santa-monica-california-manip)

San Gabriel Mountains, California

 

They take the morning slowly, coffee and scones on a walk along the river as they hold hands. Louis finds it hard to stop smiling and, by the look on his face, Harry can’t either. They pack their bags just before check out and get sidetracked by making out on the couch for awhile before they manage to get back in the car and head for home.

Los Angeles is gorgeous as they arrive on the edge of the city limits. The sky is clear and blue and the ground is already scattered with leaves of all different colors. Harry is driving but he has one hand on Louis’s knee, fingers tapping to the song playing on the radio.

“Real life,” Louis says, glancing over at Harry. “Can’t believe it.”

Harry smiles, “Are you in a hurry?”

“To get back?”

Harry nods, “Yeah, do you have anything to do?”

“Was probably going to do laundry and order Thai food. Was hoping you’d join me.”

Harry smiles, “Can you do it tomorrow?”

Louis looks over, narrowing his eyes. “What are you planning Harry Styles?”

Harry steers off of the 405 toward the exit with Santa Monica in crisp white lettering over the top. “How about one more adventure before we go back?”

Louis bites his bottom lip over a smile. “I’ll go anywhere with you,” he says and he already knows it’s the absolute truth.

*

 

 


	10. December (Epilogue)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Epilogue added December 24, 2017.) I wanted to tie this closed with one more piece of the story. Happy Holidays and enjoy!

**December**

Louis swears the fluorescent lights of the library are taking a toll on his eyes and, by extension, his entire brain. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers as the words on the page in front of him swim by again. On a sigh, he closes his eyes and then opens them again to focus. It doesn’t work. He shuts the book he’s been reading from with a dull thud causing a couple of stray sets of eyes to wander from across the room, curious at the disruption.

It takes him under a minute to gather his stuff from his workspace and shove it in his backpack, tangling his laptop cord and phone charger together in the process. He just wants to get out of the library - hardly concerned with doing it in an orderly fashion.

He knew it would be hard, is the thing. Law school was never meant to be a cakewalk but there’s a stark difference between being prepared for difficulty and being slammed in the face with tests, papers, case studies, and defense practices with hardly a pause to take a breath.

It’s already dark by the time he gets outside, winter bringing slightly cooler weather and darker nights even now, at the beginning. There are strings of lights hung haphazardly around the bare trees, some white lights skirting the edges of the buildings, colored paper signs announcing holiday festivals and concerts stuck up against light posts. Even the festive cheer does nothing to hide the fact campus is already barren with only a few days until the holiday break. Louis is already counting down the finals - one test and one essay - standing between him and a flight home.

He studies the ground as he walks the familiar path toward his apartment: dirty sidewalks covered in stepped on gum and wet garbage, stray shoelaces and socks like the underbelly of a laundromat.

Laundry.  
Shit.

“Fuck,” he says out loud without missing a step. He was supposed to put his laundry in the dryer before he left for class - not leave it sitting in a damp heap inside the washing machine for seven hours.

It’s pretty much the way his day - the whole week, really - has gone so he can’t even pretend to be surprised by the realization. His track record for today alone has included waking up past his alarm, not being able to find two matching socks, spilling coffee on the kitchen floor, being late to his first lecture, getting a headache that refused to go away, and then locking himself in the library for four unproductive hours under fluorescent lights. And the laundry. He forgot to put the fucking laundry in the fucking dryer.

The streetlight flickers over the entrance of his apartment - lazy, like it’s deciding whether to stay on or turn off permanently. At this rate, he wouldn’t be wholly surprised if it just called it quits. He takes a moment to pull out his keys, absently checking his phone before he remembers it’s already dead. He rolls his eyes. What a fucking day.

His building is too old to have a functioning elevator so he takes the stairs, vaguely wondering if he’s made the right choice on this law school thing. It’s not the first time the thought has circled through his mind, nor will it probably be the last. A familiar voice echoes from the back of his mind - low and steady, thick like honey - it’s only the first term, it’s nearly Christmas and you’re tired, nothing good is ever easy. His lips twitch as the voice quiets again. Sometimes he thinks that voice is the one thing helping him get through this term at all.

The lock on the front door sticks as usual so it takes Louis a moment to get it open, twisting the knob back and forth before it gives way.

This far into the term, he’s not surprised to find someone already in his apartment (though, admittedly, the first time he’d walked in to unexpected company, he’d thrown his keys across the room in self defense).

Now, there’s just the low hum of Michael Buble’s Christmas album, a candle flickering on the coffee table and Harry sitting cross legged on the couch with his laptop settled on his lap. He looks up as Louis comes in the door, a half smile curling on his lips when their eyes meet. Louis feels something in his chest loosen as he matches Harry’s smirk, a quiet, “Hi,” disrupting the space between them.

Louis hasn’t seen him since yesterday; their schedules for finals week sending them both in opposite directions. Sometimes he thinks it’s too soon - the way he’s tied himself to Harry, the way the very sight of him manages to settle his bones and make him smile. Other times, though, most of the time, he just thinks Harry is exactly who he’s been waiting for.

It doesn’t get old to see Harry in his space like this, wearing one of Louis’s sweatshirts with a half empty mug of tea (also belonging to Louis) sitting on the table. There’s just something about coming home and finding Harry already here, or Harry wandering over after a late night at the library and letting himself in just to sleep next to Louis. Maybe they’ve moved too fast with the whole thing - some of their friends certainly think so - but nothing about it seems too fast to Louis, nothing about having Harry between each of his ribs scares him at all.

Louis doesn’t even take his backpack off before crossing over to the couch, leaning over the coffee table to kiss Harry softly, tasting the peppermint on his lips from his current obsession with candy canes.

“I moved your clothes into the dryer when I got here,” Harry says, once they separate. “I wasn’t sure if you forgot or -,”

Louis cuts him off with another kiss, one hand slipping around the side of Harry’s neck to hold his face steady, his thumb drawing over the arch of Harry’s cheekbone.

Harry kisses him for only a moment before he laughs against his mouth. “You’re welcome,” he says through his smile, biting his lip as he pushes Louis back a step. Louis nearly falls over the table before catching his balance, flipping Harry off for good measure. Harry just laughs lightly, rolling his eyes.

“How was this morning?” Louis asks as he lets his backpack fall to the chair adjacent to the couch. He steps on the back of his shoes and kicks them over by the door; Harry’s converse are already lined up neatly against the wall.

“Think it went okay,” Harry says with a small shrug. “Won’t know for sure until the end of the week.”

Louis nods, “I personally think you were more than prepared. You had an excellent study partner, if I do say so myself.”

Harry tries to stare at Louis with narrowed eyes but a laugh bubbles against his lips anyway. He shakes his head as he presses his lips together, eyes dropping to his computer screen. He clicks around aimlessly and Louis grins at the way his cheeks go light pink.

It’s not his fault flashcards and stripping go together so well. It’s not Harry’s fault either - considering he got every answer correct and had them both naked within fifteen minutes. In fact, the whole thing was the most exciting study session Louis has been a part of. He may have learned an art history fact or two in the process.

“He was alright,” Harry says with another shrug, the twitch of his lips stealing his faux seriousness.

“Alright,” Louis repeats under his breath. “Overwhelmed with compliments, babe.”

Harry glances at Louis and laughs before focusing back at his computer, smile lingering as he starts typing in earnest.

Louis leaves Harry to his essay as he wanders through the kitchen to check the laundry, the low hum of the dryer noticeably absent against Michael Buble’s crooning tunes. Harry hums along softly and Louis doubts he even knows he’s doing it - he never does, anyway.

Louis empties the dryer of his clothes, still warm as he piles them in a laundry basket. It takes him longer than it truly should to realize the laundry basket doesn’t even belong to him. His confusion holds for only a moment before he opens the top of the washing machine and spots Harry’s clothes, wet and ready to be moved to the dryer. Maybe it should take him longer to identify the sodden clump of clothes but the pink socks with green dinosaurs and white tee with black font give it away upon a single glance.

There’s a slight flutter in Louis’s stomach at Harry doing laundry at his apartment - his mind immediately conjuring up an image of Harry carrying a laundry basket and his backpack across campus, trudging up Louis’s stairs and settling in for a night of studying as he waits for Louis.

Louis loves it, is the thing. Loves Harry comes to his apartment on a whim, plans to stay even while Louis is gone because he feels comfortable. He loves him. That must be the double underline to the whole thing - though they haven’t said it in so many words yet.

Louis transfers Harry’s clothes to the dryer and sets the timer, the machine rumbling to life after a quiet moment. He rests the full laundry basket on his hip and heads for his room to put his clean clothes away. He’s not too modest to realize it’s a form of procrastination to getting back to studying; any other night, he’d pile clean laundry in the corner of his room rather than fold and put it away. On his way past the couch, he runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, scratching at his scalp gently before pressing a kiss to his forehead as a detour on the way to his bedroom.

Even when procrastinating, he isn’t meticulous when it comes to folding his clothes and finds himself done pretty quickly - the task of finishing his paper looming ever closer. He twists his neck as he closes the last drawer on his dresser, mind emptying of other ways to procrastinate the inevitable.

Three more days. Three more days and then he’ll be on a plane to Chicago. Home for the holiday break - home where it actually feels like Christmas and not the wet underside of a sweaty shoe. LA has its perks - Louis doesn’t think the city in December is one of them.

“Were you able to change your flight?” Louis asks as he passes back through the main room toward the kitchen. His last avenue of procrastination will be staring in the refrigerator for a few moments, praying for Chinese food to descend upon the top shelf.

“No,” Harry says without looking away from his computer. “The lady on the phone told me, albeit quite nicely, to fuck off.”

“Did you tell her you wanted to fly home with your gorgeous boyfriend?”

Harry looks at Louis over his shoulder, nose scrunched. “I don’t think she would have cared, to be honest.”

“And if you told her we were newly married, flying to our honeymoon after our miraculous beach wedding?”

Harry laughs as he goes back to looking at his computer. “She probably would want to know why we’d booked tickets on seperate flights in the first place. Not very romantic for a honeymoon.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Obviously it’s a shotgun wedding.”

“Obviously,” Harry drawls back though Louis hears his smile.

“This is what you get for booking your flight in July, you know. No one books flights six months early.”

Harry twists around again, eyebrows raised. “Because saving money is a crime?”

Louis smirks, “Because we can’t fly home together now, baby. Are you even listening?”

Harry laughs, “For what it’s worth, we are on the same flight back here in January.”

“Without us even trying,” Louis points out. Booked at two different times and still on the same United flight to Los Angeles next month. Eleven rows apart, but they can’t win them all. Though, to be fair, Louis plans to lie to everyone necessary in order to be able to sit by Harry. He just hasn’t shared that plan with Harry yet.

“It’s like it was fate,” Harry says with an edge of a sarcasm over his words. He cuts himself off with a laugh and goes back to his work. “I ordered Chinese,” he adds without turning around again, just as Louis opens the refrigerator.

Louis looks up toward the ceiling of the apartment and does an imitation of the cross - though he’s not sure it’s fully correct by religious standards - in thanks for finding someone like Harry to have in his life. I love you, he nearly says out loud. Instead, “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” comes out instead. It’s another version of the same truth.

Harry chuckles lightly but stays mostly focused on his laptop this time. Louis knows he’s bothered him enough for the time being so he doesn’t make any more comments as he finally resigns himself to starting in on his own studies for the night.

He likes that Harry comes over to study now. At the beginning, in the first days and weeks of their new relationship in one place - no quick changing background of scenes and odd cities to distract them - Harry would hide away in the library or refuse to see Louis until he was completely done with his schoolwork. They slowly progressed to where they are now - Harry curling up on his couch with his laptop, letting Louis run flashcards with him, spending lazy Saturday mornings reading. It comes back to the feeling of being settled - Louis is happiest when he’s with Harry and that’s a truth he’s not trying to deny.

Denial. Louis can practically see the word staring back at him, underlined with the essay he needs to finish for tomorrow. If anything, all of his schooling and the first three months of law school have taught him avoiding things never really makes them go away.

He sighs loudly as he leaves the kitchen, making sure to duck down to kiss the side of Harry’s neck as he passes the long edge of the couch. Harry doesn’t even flinch at the sneak attack, his fingers not missing a beat on his keys. Focused always looks good on him, like a sexy librarian or something; Louis knows better than to tell him that now, though. An eye roll and a “fuck off, sweetheart,” would surely be his response.

Louis finds himself in an easier groove of working on his paper than the monotony of terrible progress the library had provided earlier. He sits on the floor at the coffee table, his laptop resting comfortably on the table with room for his legs underneath while he types. He finds himself humming along to Michael Buble and chewing on a miniature candy cane from the endless supply Harry has procured, all while stomping through the forest of reasonable defenses for a client committing murder. It’s a fascinating topic - if he wasn’t being graded and made to critically think three days before a three week break.

His first happy interruption is the doorbell and a teenager holding two bags of Chinese food, slightly out of breath from climbing the flights of stairs. Louis hands over the cash Harry had set on the entry table in exchange for the bags and wishes the guy, “Merry Christmas,” though he assumes it’s the promise of chow mein that has him in a spirited mood.

“Did you order the entire restaurant, love?” Louis asks as he sets the cartons out on the coffee table.

Harry laughs as he moves the candle to a side table, brushing a few stray candy cane wrappers from the table and onto the floor. “I ordered on an empty stomach,” he says with a sheepish smile.

The momentary pause in focus to set out dinner barely lasts a few moments more before Harry settles back into the couch with his computer, a carton of spicy chicken balanced in his lap. Louis watches him quietly for a second, the way he sniffs as he goes back to reading, the slow blink of his eyes and absent way he tries to aim his fork into the container in his lap without looking. He jabs his own thigh with the plastic fork and laughs when he finds Louis staring at him.

“Maybe take a break to eat?” Louis suggests, popping a piece of the Sweet and Sour Chicken into his own mouth.

Harry makes a show of spearing a piece of chicken and deliberately putting it between his lips, sucking on the fork for good measure. Louis fans himself and shifts his legs, “Whoa, there. Seduction by Chinese?”

Harry laughs and nearly chokes on his chicken, coughing into his hand while he continues to laugh.“I just want to finish this,” Harry says. “Then I’ll take a break.”

“Okay, okay,” Louis says. He rolls onto his knees and then up fully to get them both glasses of water, and the inevitable stack of napkins they’ll need.

Two hours later and the food is hardly demolished though the table is a warzone, sauces spilled and random vegetables stranded outside of their cartons. Louis is too full to contemplate physical movement and Harry is far too immersed in his work to even notice

Louis goes back to his essay yet again, at one point typing with his eyes closed just to get the words on the paper. Editing is for later, word vomit is the trend for a late night. Eventually, even word vomit is boring too and his eyes wander again to Harry.

Harry looks exhausted, his hair pushed up one side and the circles under his eyes contrasted by the light of his computer. His eyes are even blinking slower as he studies his computer. The typing has slowed so Louis would assume he’s editing now, his lip drawn between his teeth. Louis leans back on his palms and twists his neck, smiling at the satisfying click of tension being released.

Harry’s neck is stiff, his shoulders held in a firm line, his jaw drawn against his skin. Louis would give him a massage if he knew how - or, rather, if he had any concept of how not to turn a massage into sexual foreplay. That had been Harry’s critique the last time Louis offered to do it for him. It’s not as though Louis could ignore the sounds Harry was making as he pressed his thumbs into his shoulders and down his spine. It was practically obscene, honestly.

Regardless, they both need a break from the weight of school, so heavy on their shoulders at the end of the term. Louis wants to get home to his family nearly as much as he wants to get Harry home to his own family. He doesn’t want to give Harry up but there’s some kind of magic in being with your mom at Christmas, some kind of magic they just can’t give each other.

They’ve already planned it, they’ll have a couple of days apart to be with their families on their own before they’ll make the crossover to introduce each other’s families to the one boy they can’t stop talking about. Harry’s mom has already invited Louis for dinner the Tuesday after they get home, Louis’s mom wants to take Harry to the tree lighting at the high school the next night. She tells Louis she’s already in love with Harry even though they haven’t officially met. They’ve traded recipes over email and suddenly they’re soul mates.

Louis finishes his glass of water and then stands to start clearing up the empty containers. Chances are, they’ll both fall asleep before they do it properly and there are few things worse than the smell and look of congealed Chinese food the morning after.

“Want me to help?” Harry asks as soon as he sees Louis reaching for a container.

“I’ve got it,” Louis says with a shake of his head. “Are you getting close to done?”

Harry moves his head side to side, considering. “I’m done with my essay and I’ll reread tomorrow when I’m fresh. Just studying for my test for Friday now,” he says. “And it’s one of those things where you feel like you can study forever and still only know half the information.”

Louis hums, stacking two containers on top of each other. “I know the feeling.”

Cleaning up goes relatively quickly, though Louis grimaces at the few stray, sticky vegetables he has to touch with his fingers. For some reason, the gross factor is exacerbated outside of the to-go container.

He gets all of the containers into the garbage and wipes down the table, re-filling his and Harry’s glasses before considering himself done. He glances at the clock on the microwave, surprised it’s been four hours since he got home and Harry has yet to take a break once. Louis is a fan of breaks - especially breaks that involve blow jobs or going to get ice cream at midnight, both of which Harry has indulged him in more than once on a late night or two.

Louis leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms, studying Harry in the quiet. Michael Buble was nixed an hour ago when his album became too repetitive for either of them to fully handle while they tried to focus. Louis studies the curve of Harry’s neck, the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders with his breath, the way he wiggles every once in awhile to get comfortable.

Louis lets his mind wanders back to the beginning of walking in tonight - the way his headache melted away somewhere between meeting Harry’s eyes and saying, “Hi”. It’s crazy that Harry can do that for him - that with a look and a word, he lights Louis up from the inside. He hopes he does that for Harry, hopes he makes him settled and warm to his very core without thinking about it.

Louis pauses in his errant thoughts, eyes falling to Harry again and an idea flowering in the back of his mind.

He closes the distance to the couch easily enough, his hands falling to Harry’s shoulders. This time, Harry does jolt at the touch.

“Yes?” He says, twisting his neck.

Louis hinges in half to kiss him; longer than when he walked in, breathing in Harry like a drug, tracing his tongue over his lips, feeling Harry melt under his mouth. He lets his hands skirt over Harry’s shoulders and the tops of his arms, all the way to where his hands are perched on the keyboard, without breaking the kiss once.

“What are you doing?” Harry whispers when Louis pulls back slightly, his fingers falling in the spaces of Harry’s hands, fitting like they’re meant to.

“Was just thinking,” Louis says. “About you.”

“Thanks,” Harry says with a cheesy smile. Louis rolls his eyes and kisses him again, helpless not to.

“Are you done studying?”

“No,” Harry says automatically, his smile dimming slightly.

Louis doesn’t give up. “Could you take a break?”

Harry raises his eyebrow, “No.”

Louis holds his eyes and then blinks once before looking away. Right when Harry thinks he’s given up, Louis lets go of his hands and grabs the laptop, dancing back away from the couch and barely making it as Harry twists up on his knees to grab at him, his pleasant smile buried by an annoyed look Louis knows all too well.

He knows all of Harry’s looks by now - the way he looks when he’s trying to tell a lie, and the way his smile turns down at the corners when he’s disappointed, the way his eyebrows pull together when he’s about to come, the way his eyes go flat when he’s trying to pick a fight. And the way he looks right this moment - eyebrows raised in the vision of unimpressed, jaw clenched just on the safe side of angry.

“Give me the computer,” Harry says without breaking eye contact. He holds one hand out like a parent talking to a stubborn child. Louis takes another step further into the kitchen.

Louis shakes his head and focuses on the screen, scrolling through a few pages of Harry’s study guide while Harry stares at him.

“Where did Art Deco originate?” Louis asks.

“Louis,” Harry says, crossing his arms again. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Where did Art Deco originate?” He repeats himself, eyebrows raised right back at Harry like he’s the one causing the problems by not answering.

“Paris,” Harry says finally.

“Two most famous American buildings that have Art Deco styles?”

Harry sits back on his heels and sighs. “Chrysler Building and Radio City Music Hall. Both in New York.”

“And three adjective traits of Art Deco?” Louis glances at the screen and then back at Harry.

“Anti-traditional, sleek, sophistication, wealth,” Harry recites without blinking.

Louis grins, “That was four. You’re brilliant.”

Harry flips him off without changing his face once. “Lou, what are you doing? Honestly?”

“I’m just asking if you can take a break.”

Harry rubs his hands over his eyes, “Not really. Last time I took a break with you, I fell asleep for the rest of the night.”

“Two orgasms will do that to a man,” Louis says wisely, trying to get a laugh though Harry just stares at him blankly. Louis gives in first. “Two hours, tops. Maybe even less. I’ll get you home before midnight, Cinderella.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Harry says flatly. “I have a test. You realize that, yeah?”

Louis doesn’t get offended though Harry may be trying to get him there. He just smiles softly at Harry and nods. “Of course it’s not a joke. I just don’t want you to run yourself into the ground when I know you’re more than ready for it,” he says lifting the laptop up and down. “You always are. Not to mention, I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” Harry says but there’s not heat or tease in his words. Louis can nearly see his edges softening again, the spikes that go up everytime Louis pokes, folding down.

“We’ve been running on opposite tracks for almost two weeks,” Louis says reasonably. “Is it that awful I want to spend two hours doing something not tied to the fucking University of Southern California?”

Harry smiles with closed lips, his mouth twitching. “Does this mean I have to get off the couch?”

Louis nods, “Sure does.” He snaps the top of the laptop down like a punctuation.

Harry jumps over the back of the couch like a shot, panic coloring his entire face as he reaches for the laptop with two hands. “I didn’t save my essay,” he says as Louis hands over the laptop, his own heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears. Harry turns away from him and Louis feels like the worlds biggest asshole and worst boyfriend all at once.

“Shit,” he says licking his lip. “It probably didn’t shut down yet, maybe just open it back up?” Harry’s shoulders shake and Louis gets the odd feeling his stomach has been scooped out. “Fuck, baby -” he reaches for Harry at the same time Harry spins around with the biggest grin exploding on his face, eyes shining as he starts laughing. Louis raises his eyebrows.

“April Fool’s?” Harry says, his eyes going squint with his laughter.

Louis tries to look menacing but the relief mixed with the fact he’s in love with an idiot wins out and then he’s laughing and shaking his head at the same time. “I fucking hate you so much.”

Harry basically wheezes through his laugh, his dimple curving in. “I’m sorry,” he says though his voice doesn’t match the sentiment. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“You thought it’d be funny to watch me have a heart attack at age twenty-three?” Louis asks, his hand going to his chest. The thud has slowed considerably now.

“Nearly twenty-four,” Harry points out. He laughs at the face Louis pulls and then he’s right there in Louis’s space, the laptop pressed between them as Harry presses his forehead against Louis’s, his smile getting lost like a blur.

“You’re awful,” Louis whispers.

“You like it,” Harry whispers back. Louis doesn’t get a chance to say much more beyond that before Harry is kissing him, biting gently on his bottom lip in a way that tends to derail any and all of Louis’s plans.

“Alright,” Louis says before Harry can do the one thing with his tongue certain to end their night right here. “Let’s go.”

“What do I need to bring?” Harry asks once his laptop is safely deposited back on the coffee table.

“Just your cute face,” Louis says without really thinking about it, pushing his feet into his shoes and tying them up.

“You’re disgusting,” Harry muses, nudging Louis out of his way with his hip to get his own shoes.

“Are you not going to tell me where we’re going?” Harry asks while Louis locks the front door for the second time. The first time, Harry had made him undo it to make sure the candle was blown out.

“No,” Louis says. “Of course not.” He takes two steps toward the stairs without Harry matching and then pauses. “Trust me?” He reaches out for Harry’s hand and smiles as Harry twists their fingers together.

They have to walk through campus to get Harry’s car from his apartment. It’s a nice stroll - the lights and festive posters somehow a bit more welcome with Harry’s hand held in his.

“I wish it would snow here,” Harry says as the lights in the student union flicker while they pass by. “It would actually feel like Christmas.”

“You mean the white lights in the palm trees aren’t doing it for you?”

Harry squeezes Louis’s hand when he laughs. Sometimes, Louis thinks, it’s his favorite thing Harry does. Or maybe it’s the way he likes to sleep with a fan on, how he calls Louis if he walks across campus in the dark, the way he laughs over his own jokes. Sometimes, Louis thinks, his favorite things about Harry are far too long to list out.

“Gems said home is already a complete mess,” Harry says over his smile. “The other day it was snowing and it looked like cotton balls falling from the sky.”

“Amazing,” Louis says, picturing it easily. “I can’t wait to do snow angels with you.”

Harry laughs again, his cheeks pink under the streetlights, the coolness in the air nothing at all like Chicago but fitting for December nonetheless. “We’ll have to invite Niall.”

“Of course.” They walk in quiet for a moment before Louis laughs. Harry glances over with slightly raised eyebrows, a silent, “Tell me, please.”

Louis doesn’t hesitate. “I was talking to Niall last night and he said he can’t picture us in the same space. Like, he knows we’re together but he can’t picture it.”

“He’s seen pictures of us together,” Harry says. “He’s Skyped us both together.”

“I know. That’s what I told him. He said he just wants to see us interact. Like, see what we do when no one is watching.”

Harry scrunches his nose, thumb tracing over the back of Louis’s hand slowly. “Like we’re animals in a zoo?”

Louis laughs, “I wish I would have said that. I just kind of mumbled through an answer that I can’t even remember.”

“Do you remember when we first told him we were dating?”

“Yes,” Louis says, smirking at the memory of the way Niall had told them they were lying at least twelve times and then refused to believe them for almost a month after they got back to campus. “And the way he kept asking for proof?”

“He’d test me,” Harry says, though Louis already knows the story. “Ask me weird shit about you to try and trip me up.”

“Didn’t work when we were laying on the couch answering his texts together,” Louis says, a bit smug.

“And of course then he was mad we didn’t tell him earlier.”

“Of course.” Louis rolls his eyes fondly. He can’t wait to see Niall and buy him a drink, or ten, for playing matchmaker in the first place. He can’t wait to sit in a bar in Chicago with all of his friends and Harry right next to him, to walk down the snowy streets, and get wine drunk with their families. He squeezes Harry’s hand without comment and Harry reciprocates.

“I can’t wait to be there,” Harry says on a sigh like Louis has spoken out loud.

Louis pauses and pulls Harry to him, slips one hand along the side of his neck and kisses him slowly, a quiet campus, flickering streetlights and a soft breeze dancing over them. He nearly says it, nearly says, “I love you so much, sometimes I can’t breathe,” but he just says, “Me neither.”

Louis takes the drive slow while Harry plays around with the radio, finally landing on a station playing exclusively Christmas songs. It’s Sam Smith’s rendition of, “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” which alway has the distinct tendency to make Louis feel like he’s going to cry. Harry drops his hand from the dial and lets it rest along Louis’s thigh, humming quietly as he closes his eyes, head drifting back against the headrest of the seat.

There’s a funny sense of nostalgia when they’re in the car like this, driving further than the grocery store or the post office. Harry’s Jeep is where it all started and, often, nearly ended. Louis fell in love with Harry sitting right like this, miles falling to the wayside, music blurring a soundtrack, the nights and days blending together. He never knew he was falling in love - didn’t know until it smacked him in the face in the shape of Harry’s smile, the curve of his jaw, warmth of his heart.

Louis gets on the Pacific Coast Highway and Harry barely opens his eyes as the car picks up speed. He smiles and Louis smirks back at him, a secret passed between them in silence. “I know where you’re taking me.” “I know you do.”

They did this more in the very beginning; once they were back on campus and feeling their way through something clunky and uneven, something forged on late nights and early mornings, diner food and tacky tourist pit stops. They had to figure out how to make plans to see each other, how to balance school with their life together, how not to lose what they’d fought hard to find.

It wasn’t easy. Louis would venture to say that it’s still not. They argue a bit, don’t see eye to eye on simple things, show their flaws to each other like a hand of cards turned out. Harry thinks Louis pokes too much, Louis thinks Harry doesn’t say enough. They slam doors and walk away, roll their eyes with dismissive waves of their hands.

They hold on tight, though. They don’t let more than a day pass without talking, even when they’re angry. They talk things out even when it’s like pulling Harry’s teeth to do so. Louis listens when Harry tells him he’s taking things too far, when his fun and games aren’t exactly that fun anymore.

They have a lot of sex - make up and otherwise. They laugh at the things no one else finds funny, they whisper secrets at midnight when they’re in bed. They get drunk at the bars on campus and make out against street lamps while they try to walk back home. They sing songs at the top of their lungs and dance on the couch; they study at the library and text each other good luck for tests.

And they drive. It’s the constant through the good and the bad, silent drives down the Pacific Coast Highway, down to their spot.

Louis is the one who found it, one night when he was so frustrated by his courses and Harry was caught up in a study session he couldn’t get out of. Just take my car and go somewhere Harry had text him. Louis didn’t know where to go but he did it anyway, curving out over the highway with the ocean out his window, Green Day blasting through the speakers like a seventeen year old rebellion. And then he’d found it, one stray turn into a deserted alcove. He stayed for a bit, long enough to fall in love with the cliffs and endless ocean view and then he’d raced back to campus to get Harry. He waited outside Harry’s study session and then whisked him away just past midnight, leaving everything behind for a cliff they now call theirs.

“Knew it,” Harry says as Louis’s takes the familiar turn, slowing the car. Louis smiles and takes Harry’s hand from his thigh, kisses his fingertips and then slides their fingers together.

“How many times do you think we’ve been here?” Louis asks as the Jeep slows to a stop.

“A million,” Harry says. He lets his hand slip from Louis’s to undo his seatbelt.

“Something like that.” Louis rolls his eyes as he mirrors Harry’s actions. They’ve known each other since the end of August - four months. It feels like nothing and everything all at once. A million times and the first time every time.

The way Louis has parked is by strategy, by practice. They open the back hatch of the Jeep and climb inside, the blankets still there from last time, an empty bottle of wine they both laugh about when they see it tipped over. That was the night they slept out here - when they fucked with the Pacific Ocean as their audience, the stars winking at them because they’re idiots and they’re in love. They fell asleep with wine stained smiles, and wearing absolutely nothing else. They could, they can, because they live in Los Angeles and it never gets all that cold, not even at Christmas, not even now.

Now, they sit with their backs against the back seat, legs out in front of them, touching from their thighs to their ankles in a faded ode to a drive in movie in Oklahoma. The cliff dives off a few yards from the edge of the back of the car, the ocean battling against the rocks below, a soothing sway if not a bit rambunctious. The sky is clear, midnight blue with dots of stars; the smog not as persistent here, on the edge of the earth.

Harry holds Louis’s hand with both of his in his lap, his head on Louis’s shoulder, silence washing over them. The rest of the world doesn’t exist when they’re here, it’s just the two of them all over again. It’s them and the sky, the moon. The same sky and moon that followed them from Chicago to Los Angeles, the endless sky the one continuous backdrop of their grand romance.

“How was your day?” Harry asks once they’re settled, breathing even and heartbeats slowing.

“Not that good,” Louis muses. “Woke up without you, first of all,” he pauses to turn and kiss the side of Harry’s head, his hair smelling of raspberries. “Spilled my coffee so I was late to lecture. I got a headache and then I couldn’t focus on writing my essay, didn’t eat lunch, forgot to put my laundry in the dryer.” He sighs as punctuation and Harry laughs quietly.

“Poor baby,” he hums. He squeezes Louis’s hand in his, taps his fingertips against Louis’s wrist.

“Then I came home,” Louis says like it’s the answer to a riddle. “My boyfriend was there -“

“Was he?” Harry interrupts. “I bet he’s handsome.”

“He’s alright,” Louis says nonchalant.

“And charming.”

“A little full of himself to be honest,” Louis says over a laugh. He turns his head to meet Harry’s gaze, their lips catching for just a beat.

“So your boyfriend was there,” Harry leads once they part.

“Yes. And he had put my laundry in the dryer, ordered enough food for a small village, made me laugh for the first time all day.” Louis glances at Harry to see him biting his lip over a smile. “He made me forget everything else that had happened, made everything crooked right again, made life make sense again.”

There’s a quiet beat and then Harry whistles lowly. “That’s some boyfriend.”

“He is,” Louis says, smiling over his words because he’s a sap. “Do you want to know a secret about him?”

The moment turns more sincere as Harry waits for Louis to look at him before he says, “Yes.”

Louis’s tongue feels heavy but it’s a passing sensation before he smiles. “I’m in love with him.”

Even in the dark he sees the way Harry hears the words, the ways his face somehow brightens and he smiles, eyes blinking slowly. “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”

Louis nods, dropping to pretense of third person. “In so many words. It’s been true for a while, though.”

Harry kisses him as an answer, one of his hands brushing the side of Louis’s face and under his jaw before dropping. Louis presses their foreheads together and they take steady breaths, the moment washing over them like the beginning of a memory they’re going to keep.

“I’ve been saying it for a long time, you know,” Harry says, quiet in the space between their mouths. “That I love you.”

Louis pulls back, “What?”

Harry smiles, “I whisper it when you fall asleep first. Which is almost every night.”

Louis can’t even help his smile as he shakes his head. “That can’t possibly count.”

“Count?” Harry raises his eyebrows. “Is it a competition?”

Louis rolls his eyes and then kisses Harry’s lips quick, catches him completely off guard. Louis tugs Harry back so he’s a bit more into his chest, Harry’s head on his shoulder as he turns his face to kiss Louis’s neck.

“Love you,” he whispers right there against his skin. Louis hears it all the same. He reaches up to scratch his fingers through Harry’s hair, run over the shell of his ear.

“How was your day?” Louis asks even quieter than Harry did.

“Up and down,” Harry says. Louis feels his jaw move against the top of his shoulder as he speaks. “I’m just tired, and ready to be done.”

“Same,” Louis says softly.

“I’m so excited,” Harry says. He swallows and Louis feels that too. “I can’t wait for you to meet my family, for you to meet my friends. I can’t wait to like, walk around the Christmas market with you and go to the bars in River North. I can’t wait to see you in my living room, in my mom’s kitchen. She makes these scones on Christmas morning, and I know you’ll love them. I can’t wait for you to have one.”

Louis laughs when Harry finishes, as his voice goes almost breathless. He sits up a bit to study Louis’s face, smiling when he sees there’s no tease on Louis’s face, just unfiltered joy.

“I can’t wait either,” Louis says, a different iteration of the feeling settled in his veins since finals began.

“I can’t wait until I try to give you birthday sex and we have to sneak around so no one hears,” Harry adds on belatedly, giggling over his words.

“That’s the spirit,” Louis says. “Christmas and quiet birthday sex. ‘Tis the season.”

Harry laughs and it’s loud in their tiny world but it’s warm, the curves and loops making Louis join in. Harry kisses his neck again before he lays his ear on Louis’s shoulder and lets the quiet sink in.

Louis hears Harry take a deep breath and then, “Thank you.”

“What for?” Louis says rather than voicing the sarcastic, “You’re welcome,” already poised on the top of his tongue.

“First, for bringing me here tonight. I needed it.”

Louis internally pumps his fist; outside he just presses his fingertips against the outside seam of Harry’s jeans. “Of course.”

“More than that,” Harry says. “There’s something else.”

Louis settles his hand on Harry’s thigh, waits for more.

“I know you came into the picture a bit late but you managed to make this year one of the very best of my life,” Harry says, his lips moving steadily over the top of Louis’s collarbone as he speaks. “So, thank you.”

Sometimes Harry makes Louis’s heart fold at the edges. It can be over little stuff, like making him a cup of tea or buying milk when he’s out but there’s times like this, when he says stuff that punches the air out of Louis’s lungs and makes his stomach tumble in the best way.

There’s nothing more worth saying here, nothing he can say with words at least. He tips Harry’s chin up with his fingertips and kisses him, then. His tongue sweeps over Harry’s lips and tastes the inside of his mouth, swallows each exhale and pulls him in tighter until the space between them barely exists.

“It’s been my pleasure,” Louis says between smaller, softer kisses. The greatest pleasure of my life, he adds just for himself. Maybe they’ll get there next - where they say things like that. Things to sweep each other off their feet, things to wrap themselves around each other in every last way. Things that promise more than a moment and more than a few months. Things that promise a lifetime.

“Do you know what else I’m excited for?” Louis asks once they slow again. He barely pauses for an answer, “I’m excited for you to be my New Year’s kiss,” he says. He’s thought of it before - their second to last day of the road trip. He didn’t say it out loud then but he can’t keep it quiet anymore. Midnight, champagne, a fresh beginning, and Harry - it’s a combination he can’t wait to try.

“I hadn’t even thought of it, really,” Harry says, laughing at Louis’s quiet, “Hey,” in soft protest. “I was more focused on Christmas,” Harry defends gently. “But yes,” he says, “I can’t wait for that either. The best goodbye to this year and happiest hello to the next.” There’s a quiet beat before he says, “And the next.”

Louis smiles against the top of Harry’s head, happiness exploding right in the center of his chest. “Can’t wait,” he whispers, closing his eyes for just a moment.

They’ll have to leave soon - get back so Harry can finish studying before they go to bed. But for now they have this - one moment stretching on like taffy in the back of Harry’s Jeep with the stars sparkling overhead, holding onto each other with the most sincere promise of more to come.

 

 

 


End file.
